THE 

MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB; 

OR, 

THE  ATONEMENT. 

A  NOVEL. 
BY  REGINA  MARIA  ROCHE, 

ATTTHOR   OF    THE   CHILDREN   OF    THE    ABBEY,   HOUSES   OP 
OSMA   AND   ALMERIA,   DISCARDED   SON,  &fc. 


The  purest  treasure  mortal  times  afford, 

Is  spotless  reputation :  that  away, 

Men  are  but  gilded  loam,  or  painted  clay. 

SHAKSPEARE 


IN  TWO  VOLUMES. 


NEW-YORK: 

PUBLISHED  BY   INSKEEP  &   BRADFORD 

AND   BRADFORD  &   INSKERP, 

PHILADELPHIA, 

1813. 


Printed  by  D.  &  G.  Bruce,  Slote-lane. 


THE 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 


CHAP.  I. 

"  When  thoughts  of  love  I  entertain, 
I  meet  no  words  but  never,  and,  in  vain. 
«  Neve r  !  alas !  that  dreadful  name, 

Which  fuels  the  eternal  flame  ; 

Never,  my  time  to  come  must  waste, 
In  vain,  torments  the  preseat  and  the  past." 

c  I  STROVE,  by  gratifying  the  curiosity  history 
excited/  he  proceeded,  '  to  divert  the  anguish  of 
my  mind ;  but  scenes,  that  at  another  period  would 
have  excited  the  deepest  interest,  were  now  pow- 
erless to  fix  my  attention  ;  and,  after  a  short  de- 
sultory tour  through  some  of  the  most  famed  and 
romantic  provinces,  i  steered  my  way  homeward, 
as  to  a  haven,  where,  if  happiness  was  not  again 
experienced,  at  least  all  that  can  console  for  its 
loss  would  be  mine. 

*  My  return,  unaccompanied,  after  the  expec- 
tations that  had  been  raised,  excited,  as  you  may 
suppose,  no  inconsiderable  share  of  surprise  :  how 
was  my  proud,  my  wearied  spirit,  tortured  by  the 
explanation  1  was  forced  to  give !  The  parental 
tenderness,  the  affectionate  regard,  of  father  Fran- 
cis, were,  if  possible,  augmented  by  what  he  saw 
me  suffer,  and  the  consideration  of  it  being  in  some 
degree  through  his  means. 


891956 


4  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

*  His  society  soon  became  my  chief  consolation, 
for  in  him  I  found  more  of  sympathy  than  in  any 
other ;  but,  alas !  a  consolation  1  saw  1  should  not 
long  enjoy ;  his  altered  aspect  struck  me  the  mo- 
ment of  my  return :  I  saw,  in  the  ashy  paleness  of 
his  sunken  cheek,  the  feebleness  of  his  steps,  that 
he  was  journeying  fast  to  the  land  of  souls.  Still, 
however,  ac  contftwsed:  to  come  abroad,  when  the 
weather  was  mild,  and  the  evening  sun  upon  the 
fields  ;  but  now  chiefly  confined  his  walks  to  the 
grass-grown  cemetry  of  the  monastery,  half  en- 
closed by  detached  masses  of  the  building,  and 
seamed  with  nacrow  footpaths. 

'  Already  had  he  marked  out  a  spot  for  Ws 
grave ;  it  was  in  the  loneliest  part  of  the  church- 
yard, and  close  to  a  young  hawthorn,  scathed  by 
lightning — f  an  emblem/  he  said,  with  a  mournful 
smile,  '  and  therefore  I  like  the  thought  of  resting 
under  it,  for  1,  like  it,  was  young,  when  the  stroke 
came  that  laid  my  green  head  low,  that  scattered 
my  leaves  ere  the  time  of  my  fading  was  near.' 
But  the  composure  which  both  pride  and  reason 
induced  me  to  struggle  to  regain,  was  cruelly  inter- 
rupted by  the  arrival  of  my  perfidious  friend  and 
his  wife,  at  his  residence  in  the  neighbourhood.  I 
should  instantly  have  quitted  a  place  where  I  was 
so  likely  to  encounter  them,  but  that  1  could  not 
bring  myself  to  leave  father  Francis,  convinced,  as 
I  was,  a  final  separation  was  rapidly  approaching. 

'  Missing  him  one  evening  from  his  cell,  I  has- 
tened to  seek  him  in  the  cemetery,  and  catching  a 
glimpse  of  him,  seated  on  a  low  cairn,  was  emerg- 
ing from  a  range  of  decayed  arches  behind  him, 
when  the  sight  of  Elvira,  rushing  towards  him,  and 
whose  entreaties  to  be  allowed  to  introduce  herself 
to  him,  1  should  previously  have  told  you,  he  posi- 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  5 

lively  resisted,  in  resentment  of  her  supposed  in- 
constancy, fixed  me  to  the  earth. 

'  With  an  exclamation  of  mingled  rapture  and 
deprecation,  she  threw  herself  at  his  feet,  and  em- 
braced his  knees.  Her  attitude,  her  strong  resem- 
blance to  her  mother,  the  tears  that  dimmed  her 
radiant  eyes,  excited  emotions  too  powerful  in  the 
mind  of  her  aged  relative  to  permit  him  to  move* 
Her  attempt  to  vindicate  herself  in  his  opinion, 
gradually  led  to  a  full  development  of  the  decep- 
tion that  had  been  practised  on  us  both.  Oh! 
what  were  my  feelings  at  the  discovery !  what  my 
wild  anguish  at  the  idea  of  having  been  instrumental 
to  forcing  her  into  the  arms  of  another !  1  shall 
not  dwell  on  the  scene  that  ensued ;  suffice  it,  that 
such  was  its  effect  upon  me,  several  weeks  elapsed 
ere  I  recovered  the  perfect  use  of  my  reason. 

*  My  first  inquiry,  on  my  restoration  to  myself, 
was  after  father  Francis ;  it  was  answered  by  the 
tears  of  my  mother.     They  instantly  revealed  to 
me  the  truth  •    '  Yes,  my  dear  son/  clasping  my 
hands,  she  said,   *  he  is  at  peace.'     Then  taking 
from  her  bosom  a  letter,  written  in  his  almost  ex- 
piring moments,  to  conjure  me,  by  the  friendship 
that  had  subsisted  between  us,  the  consideration 
due  to  the  feelings  of  my  parents,  and  the  hope  I 
entertained  of  being  re-united  in  heaven  to  those  I 
loved  on  earth,   not  to   attempt   revenging    my 
wrongs,  presented  it  to  me.     Instinctively  1  drop* 
ped  on  my  knee  to  receive  it ;    and  the  fever  of 
resentment  cooled  at  the  moment  by  long  suffering 
and  grief,  vowed,  in  that  posture,  to  observe  its 
injunction. 

*  Yielding  to  the  prayers  and  entreaties  of  my 
parents,  for  i  felt  1  owed  them  much,  I  suffered 
myself  to  be  dragged  from  place  to  place,  in  hopes 

VOL.  JI.  B 


6  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

change  of  scene  might  produce  a  favourable  one  o« 
my  feelings ;  but  the  shaft  had  penetrated  too  far  to 
permit  this  hope  to  be  realized.  '  I  had,  however, 
to  speedily  drink  yet  deeper  of  the  cup  of  sorrow : 
the  best,  the  tenderest,  the  most  indulgent  of  pa- 
rents, were  within  a  short  period  of  each  other, 
snatched  from  me.  Oh !  what  a  desert  did  my 
home  appear  after  their  death !  and  how  truly  did  [ 
feel,  that  no  sorrow  can  surpass  the  sorrow  endured 
by  the  forlorn  heart,  in  witnessing  the  gradual  dis- 
solution of  the  sacred  ties  of  nature ! 

*  The  afflicting  idea  of  having  been  a  source  of 
sorrow  to  them,  led  me  often  to  bathe  their  ashes 
with  repentant  tears. — Those  1  shed  over  the  grave 
of  father  Francis  were  of  a  more  soothing  nature  :  no 
sculptured  marble  pressed  on  his  cold  bosom ;  the 
sods  of  the  valley  alone  cover  it ;  a  rude  fence,  to 
save  me  from  the  painful  apprehension  of  its  ever 
being  disturbed,  alone  distinguishes  the  bed  of  his 
repose ;  the  blighted  hawthorn,  alas  !  emblem  of  us 
both,  still  waves  its  withered  branches  over  it ;  and 
there  the  violets  that  mingle  with  its  luxuriant  cov- 
ering of  grass,  secured  from  vulgar  hands,  exhale 
their  dying  sweets  ;  and  the  lark  that  forms  its  nestt 
rears,  unmolested ,  its  callow  young.  But  my  mise- 
ry wanted  completion,  till  I  learned  the  unhappi- 
ness  of  the  injured  Elvira  with  her  husband :  had  I 
imagined  her  in  possession  of  felicity  with  him,  re- 
conciled, by  his  tenderness  and  affection,  to  the 
deception  practized  on  her,  I  make  no  doubt  I  also 
in  time  should  have  overcome  the  regrets  it  occa- 
sioned ;  but  insteacl  of  being  allowed  to  indulge  so 
consolatory  an  idea,  1  soon  became  shocked  by 
the  information  I  received ;  his  unworthy  treatment 
of  her  becoming,  by  degrees,  the  general  topic  of 
conversation  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  indignant 
theme  of  every  tongue. 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  7 

'  Disappointed  in  the  expectations  that,  notwith- 
standing her  captivating  sweetness  and  beauty,  the 
united  attractions  of  her  mind  and  person  were 
his  chief  inducement  for  wishing  to  possess  her,  he 
attempted  not  to  restrain  his  natural  fickleness  and 
cruelty. 

'  Unable  to  forgive  her  supposed  perfidy,  the 
count  banished  her  his  presence  immediately  on 
her  marriage,  with  a  declaration,  that  it  was  a  very 
doubtful  matter  whether  he  should  ever  again  con- 
sider her  as  his. 

'  Months  passed  away  without  a  reconciliation 
being  effected  ;  but  what  entreaties  could  not  ac- 
complish, was  brought  about  by  her  explanation  to 
her  uncle.  He  immediately  communicated  it  to 
his  brother,  who  no  sooner  received  it,  than,  all  con- 
trition for  his  unmerited  severity,  he  wrote  to  assure 
her>  not  of  his  forgiveness,  for  there  was  nothing  to 
forgive,  but  of  his  renewed  affection.  His  resent- 
ment and  indignation,  however,  were  not  subdued ; 
their  object  only  was  changed  ;  they  became  trans- 
ferred from  his  wronged  daughter  to  her  husband, 
who,  from  merely  disliking,  he  now  began  to  utter- 
ly scorn  and  detest.  To  forgive  the  deception  he 
had  practised,  he  felt  to  be  impossible ;  and  noth- 
ing but  the  consideration  of  the  monstrous  light  in 
which  it  must  make  him  appear,  should  he  attempt 
to  revenge  it,  deterred  him  from  an  effort  of  the 
kind. 

'  Those  who  are  capable  of  committing  injuries, 
are,  perhaps,  those  who  are  least  liable  to  pardon 
them  :  the  count  knew  not  forgiveness ;  his  vindic- 
tive temper  was  rendered  still  more  severe  and  un- 
bending, by  the  feelings  he  had  given  way  to ;  first 
possessed  with  a  thousand  wrongs,  then  convicted 
by  his  conscience  of  having  committed  them,  that 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

surly  spirit  Melancholy,  that  Shakespeare  de- 
scribes, as '  baking  the  blood,  and  making  it  run  ho- 
ney-thick, got,  by  degrees,  such  entire  dominion 
over  him,  strengthened  and  confirmed  as  was  its 
sway  by  the  soh'tude  in  which  he  had  immured  him- 
self, and  his  gloomy  broodings  over  the  cruel  resolu- 
tion he  had  formed  of  immolating  his  child  at  the 
alter  of  superstition,  that  all  real  warmth,  but  for 
her,  was  extinguished  in  his  heart. 

'  The  cold-blooded  man  is  ever  to  be  feared; 
fie  who  broods  over  his  wrongs,  scarcely  ever  for- 
gives them.  The  generous  heart  will,  at  once, 
either  resent  or  pardon ;  but  the  gloomy  and  malig- 
nant can  refrain  from  the  former,  though  unequal 
to  the  latter. 

'  All  that  the  count,  however,  could  at  present 
do,  to  shew  his  inveteracy,  he  did,  by  immediately 
taking  every  necessary  measure  for  preventing  Ros- 
crea's  having  any  control  over  the  property  that 
was  to  descend  to  liis  daughter :  but  to  her,  for  the 
purpose  of  confirming  the  assertion  he  had  made, 
he  was  lavish  of  his  gifts.  To  the  almost  exhaust- 
ed finances  of  her  profligate  husband,  who,  aban- 
doning himself  to  every  vice,  shortly  involved  his 
fortune,  these  proved  very  seasonable  supplies ;  far, 
however,  from  converting  them  to  any  proper  use, 
they  only  served  to  render  him  sfill  more  extrava- 
gap* ;  till  at  length  he  became  so  exceedingly  dis- 
tressed, as  to  insist  on  her  applying  for  larger  and 
more  frequent  ones. 

'  But  though  naturally  of  a  yielding  temper,  and 
in  considerable  awe  of  him,  from  the  ferocity  of  his, 
she  could  not  be  prevailed  on  to  act  so  contrary  to 
her  feelings  of  delicacy ;  more  especially,  as  by  this 
time,  she  had  a  family,  whose  prospect  of  any  pro- 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    CQLUMB.  9 

vision  from  him  she  conceived  extremely  precarious 
from  his  conduct. 

'  Her  inflexibility  provoked  the  most  brutal 
usage ;  her  two  children  were  torn  from  her;  all  fur- 
ther intercource  with  the  neighbouring  families  pro- 
hibited ;  and  characters  of  the  vilest  description  in- 
truded on  her  :  her  letters,  however,  to  her  father 
were,  as  usual,  serious,  but  not  complaining;  but 
what  she  concealed  he  was  admonished  of,  by  a  se- 
cret correspondence  in  the  neighbourhood,  and,  in 
consequence,  made  immediate  preparation  for  a 
journey  hither. 

'  His  effort,  on  his  arrival,  to  apprize  his  unhap- 
py daughter  of  it,  proved  unavailing,  so  strictly  was 
she  watched  and  confined  by  her  unrelenting  tyrant. 
Still  more  exasperated  by  this  circumstance,  he 
forthwith  repaired  to  the  mansion  of  ftoscrea,  to 
insist  on  an  interview  with  her ;  and  either  an  as- 
surance of  immediate  reformation  on  his  part,  or 
else  her  being  resigned  to  him  with  her  children. 

'  The  terms  in  which  these  demands  were  made 
were  not  such  as  the  brutal  temper  of  Roscrea,  now 
too  seldom,  from  the  vice  he  had  in  particular  aban- 
doned himself  to,  in  a  state  of  perfect  recollection, 
could  brook ;  instead  of  shewing  any  inclination  to 
accede  to  them,  he  imprecated  maledictions  on 
himself,  if  ever  he  allowed  him  to  see  his  child  or 
grandchildren,  except  he  cancelled  the  settlement 
he  had  made,  and  gave  his  daughter  immediate 
possession  of  some  part  of  the  property  she  was 
hereafter  to  enjoy.  But  not  to  save,  from  instant 
and  utter  destruction,  the  only  object  of  his  affec- 
tion, would  the  count  have  acceded  to  any  propo- 
sition, calculated  to  relieve  or  gratify  the  object 
of  his  detestation.  Mutual  recriminations  took 
place ;  and  they  parted  still  more  inveterate  than 


10  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

ever  against  each  other.  But  the  count  was  not 
without  a  hope,  from  the  weight  and  consequence 
he  was  aware  his  fortune  was  calculated  to  give  him , 
of  succeeding  in  time  in  awing  his  unprincipled 
son-in-law  into  greater  propriety  of  conduct,  if  he 
settled  in  his  neighbourhood ;  and  accordingly  lost 
no  time  in  looking  out  for  a  suitable  habitation  in  it ; 
but  in  vain ;  Roscrea  had  too  thoroughly  succeeded 
m  holding  him  up  to  universal  contempt  and  abhor- 
rence, to  allow  any  effort  for  the  purpose  proving 
availing.  Convinced,  from  the  insight  he  had  at 
last  obtained  into  .the  inflexibility  of  his  nature,  that 
he  had  nothing  to  hope  for  from  him,  he  deter- 
mined to  have  the  gratification,  at  least,  of  being  re- 
venged for  his  obduracy ;  and  accordingly  with  all 
the  eagerness  of  malice,  disclosed  the  facts  connec- 
ted with  him ;  his  double  apostacy,  his  filial  impi- 
ety, his  barbarous  conduct  to  his  brother,  and  the 
cruel  resolution  he  had  formed  respect  ing  the  child 
for  whom  he  now  pretended  such  parental  solici- 
tude; though  on  the  score  of  religion  he  never 
should  have  held  him  up  to  reproach  having  just 
at  that  period  renounced  his  own,  from  interested 
motives. 

<  With  the  forced  calmness  of  affected  disdain, 
the  count  retired,  from  the  immediate  experience 
of  the  humiliating  treatment  this  exposure  had  sub  • 
jected  him  to,  to  a  lonely  cottage,  some  miles  dis- 
tant, on  a  bleak  heath,  wild  and  savage  on  every 
side  as  were  his  own  thoughts  ;  for  he  had  sworn 
never  to  depart  till  he  had  taken  deadly  vengeance 
for  the  injury  done  him  ;  and  was  only  calm,  in 
order  to  be  better  enabled  to  meditate  a  scheme  for 
the  purpose. 

'  In  this  Dreary  abode  I  often  visited  him ;  the 
idea  of  his  being  the  father  of  Elvira-  causing  me. 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  11 

notwithstanding  the  little  esteem  in  which  I  held 
him,  to  experience  something  of  pleasure  in  his 
society ;  but  though  it  was  not  possible  for  inter- 
nal workings  like  his,  not,  in  some  degree,  to  be 
depicted  in  the  countenance,  I  had  no  suspicion  of 
the  crime  he  meditated. 

'  He  had  resided  here  about  a  month,  when  re- 
turning one  night  from  a  gentleman's  house  in  his 
vicinity,  where  1  had  been  to  dinner,  1  was  induced, 
by  a  coming  storm,  to  cross  the  heath,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  taking  shelter  with  him.  Putting  up  my 
horse  in  an  adjoining  shed,  I  knocked  with  my 
whip  against  the  door,  but  receiving  no  answer, 
laid  my  hand  upon  the  latch  and  admitted  myself. 

'  Finding  the  room  empty,  1  called  aloud,  but 
still  all  was  silence  :  concluding  from  this  that  both 
the  count  and  his  domestic,  an  old  confidential  fol- 
lower he  had  brought  with  him  from  Spain,  were 
out,  without  farther  ceremony  1  took  possession  of 
it,  throwing  fresh  turf  upon  the  almost  expiring 
fire,  and  drawing  my  chair  close  to  it  to  dry  my 
wet  garments  ;  but  not  without  a  sensation  of  sur- 
prise, both  from  the  lateness  of  the  hour,  and  the 
particular  dreariness  of  the  night,  at  the  count's  at 
least  being  out. 

'  The  heat  of  the  fire,  aided  in  its  stupifying  ef- 
fect by  the  profound  stillness  of  all  around,  was 
gradually  oyerpowering  me,  when,  from  the  drow- 
siness it  occasioned,  I  was  suddenly  roused  by 
something  like  a  smothered  breathing  in  the  inner 
apartment.  Starting  up,  1  was  rushing  thither, 
when  the  count  met  me  at  the  door.  Recoiling  a 
few  paces,  in  unutterable  astonishment — *  You 
within,  after  all,  count !'  I  exclaimed  ;  •'  then  you 
must  have  been  asleep,  for  I  called  out  on  my  en- 
trance/—4 No,  not  asleep/  he  answered,  in  hesi- 


Jg  MONASTERY  OF  9T. 

tating  accents, '  but^-but — I  <li<l  not  recollect  your 
voice,  and  ao — ' 

'  1  am  sorry  1  did  not  announce  myself  then/  I 
replied  ;  '  but  really  1  had  no  conception  but  that 
my  accents  were  too  familiar  not  to  be  immediately 
recollected.' 

4  They  certainly  ought/  he  returned ; '  but  when 
pne  is  under  any  kind  of  agitation — '  again  he  paus- 
ed abruptly,  and  passing  me  to  the  fire,  seated 
himself  as  if  mechanically  by  it. 

'  His  air  and  manner  strongly  perplexed  me ; 
something  1  clearly  perceived  was  wrong,  but  what, 
1  could  not  possibly  conjecture.  Involuntarily  I 
placed  myself  on  a  chair  opposite  to  him,  and,  in 
silence,  contemplated  his  countenance,  of  which 
the  blazing  turf  emitted  a  light  sufficiently  strong 
to  let  me  have  a  clear  view.  His  more  than  usual 
paleness,  the  kind  of  ferocious  rolling  of  his  dark 
eyes,  and  the  haggard  expression  of  his  features, 
heightened  my  suspicions,  or  rather  gave  rise  to 
terrible  misgivings ;  yet  I  knew  not  how  to  hint  at 
cither,  though  almost  inclined  to  think  it  might  be 
essential  to  his  safety  to  do  so.  From  examining 
his  countenance,  my  eyes  accidentally  wandering 
over  his  person,  I  was  startled  by  the  sight  of 
blood  upon  his  garments  :  '  Good  God  !'  with  in- 
expressible emotion,  '  count !'  I  exclaimed,  f  you 
must  have  met  with  some  accident,  for  your  clothes 
are  stained  with  blood !' 

'  With  blood,  say  you !'  he  repeated,  starting 
with  wildness  from  his  seat,  and  glancing  down- 
ward ;  ( yes — yes — 1  see  it  is  as  you  say ;  but  no — 
no — matter  !'  with  a  convulsive  motion  of  lip,  and 
resuming,  or  rather  dropping  again  into  his  chair  ; 
*  yes,  'tis  as  you  think ;  I  met  with  a  slight  acci- 
dent to-night.' 


MONASTERY    OP    ST.    COLUMB.  33 

f  Count !'  1  exclaimed,  no  longer  able  to  com- 
mand myself,  '  i  hope  you'll  not  take  it  amiss  my 
expressing  a  fear  of  something  more  than  a  slight 
accident  having  happened/ 

'  For  a  moment  he  looked  steadily  at  me,  then 
suddenly  recovering  all  his  wonted  sternness  and 
loftiness  of  manner,  demanded  the  cause  of  such  a 
fear? 

'  1  candidly  replied,  it  was  impossible,  from  the 
extreme  agitation  I  saw  him  in,  not  to  experience 
one  of  the  kind. 

'  Is -my  agitation  then  so  very  obvious  ?*  he  said; 
*  well/  with  something  of  an  ironical  air,  he  added, 
'  since  you  are  so  very  discerning,  I  will  not  pre- 
tend to  deny  that  I  am  a  little  discomposed  to- 
night, but  you  will  not  wonder  at  this,  when  I 
inform  you,  that  to-morrow  1  leave  the  neighbour- 
hood of  my  daughter :  Kirwan  has  already  pre- 
ceded me  to  Cork,  for  the  purpose  of  securing  me 
a  passage  to  Spain,' 

'  To  morrow!'  1  repeated,  with  surprise;  '  so 
suddenly !' 

'  Again  he  looked  earnestly  at  me  for  a  minute  ; 
then  with  a  kind  of  wild  hysteric  laugh,  '  Perhaps 
you'll  soon  find,'  he  said,  *  that  I  have  not  been  too 
hasty  in  my  movements.' 

'  My  conjectures  became  wilder ;  I  was  almost 
transfixed  by  the  secret  horror  they  inspired,  when 
the  hollow  clattering  of  horses'  hoofs  was  heard  at 
a  distance,  approaching  in  the  direction  of  the  cot- 
tage. The  count  started  at  the  sound,  and  listen- 
ed for  a  minute,  as  if  to  be  convinced  his  ear  had 
not  deceived  him;  then  suddenly  clasping  his 
hands  with  all  the  symptoms  of  ungovernable  fear, 
'  They  are  coming !  they  are  coming !'  he  exclaim- 
ed; 'secure  the  door;  and,  should  they  burst  it. 


14  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

deny  my  being  here ;  1  know  your  word  will  readi- 
ly be  believed/ 

'  He  retreated,  whilst  I  hastened  to  obey  him : 
for  a  minute,  the  agony  of  suspense,  or  rather,  ex- 
pectation, was  intolerable.  1  was  then  relieved 
from  it,  by  the  sound  that  had  occasioned  it  taking 
a  different  direction,  and  dying  away  upon  the 
moaning  gale. 

4  The  count  rejoined  me,  on  my  calling  to  him. 
After  what  had  passed,  1  conceived  myself  fully 
justified  in  avowing  what  I  thought ;  recovered 
from  his  alarm,  he  listened  to  me  with  a  mixture  of 
anger  and  disdain. 

'  You  may  surmise  what  you  please,'  he  at  length 
returned ;  *  but  all  I  have  to  tell  you  is,  that  it  is 
necessary  this  last  interview  with  me  should  be 
concealed;  if  your  regard  for  me  is  what  you  pro- 
fess, let  it  be  buried  in  eternal  oblivion.' 

*  This  injunction,  as  you  may  believe,  was  not 
calculated  to  allay  my  suspicions  ;  lost  in  thought, 
I  leaned  against  the  chimney-piece,  with  my  eye 
vacantly  fixed  upon  the  count,  who,  as  if  no  longer 
sensible  of  the  grounds  he  had  given  for  them,  be- 
gan moving  about  the  room,  making  little  prepara- 
tions against  the  ensuing  day. 

'  On  a  sudden,  he  started  back,  and  striking  hia 
forehead,  '  Oh  God  !'  almost  with  a  shriek,  "he  ex- 
claimed, '  I  am  ruined!5 

'  I  flew  to  him,  and  caught  him  by  the  arm — 

*  For  Heaven's  sake/  I  cried, '  dear  count,  collect 
yourself,  and  say  what  has  happened.' 

*  With  a  livid  look,  he  turned  his  eyes  upon  me ; 

*  The  dagger!'  he  exclaimed,  ( the  dagger!  I  find 
I've  left  it  .behind  me,  and  it  must  betray  me  !' 

'  His  terror  became  contagious,  or  rather  those 
terrible  words  struck  horror  through  my  frame: 


.MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  15 

the  blood  curdled  at  ray  heartland  with  difficulty, 
I  demanded  what  he  meant  ? 

c  First  tell  me/  he  cried,  again  a  K&te  collecting 
himself,  '  are  you  inclined  to  make  an  effort  to  save 
the  father  of  Elvira  ?' 

'  By  a  look,  1  reproached  him  for  the  doubt  inti- 
mated by  the  question. 

'  Perfectly  comprehending  it,  '  Well,  then/  he 
said,  '  1  will  briefly  explain,  if  you  first  swear  not 
to  pause,  either  to  comment,  or  reflect,  on  what  I 
shall  tell  you/ 

'  1  swore  ;  perhaps  I  was  too  precipitate ;  per- 
haps, with  such  doubts,  such  misgivings,  as  pos- 
sessed me,  1  should  have  been  more  cautious,  more 
deliberate;  but  I  believed  him  in  danger,  and  my 
feelings  were  all  commotion,  from  the  idea  of  what 
Elvira  would  suffer  should  any  ill  befal  him. 

'  The  condition  complied  with,  he  kept  me  not 
long  in  suspense :  how  shall  I  bring  myself  to  re- 
count what  he  told  me  !  how  that  he  was  the  mur- 
derer of  his  son-in-law  !  but  such  was  his  revenge- 
ful spirit,  nothing  but  his  life  could  satisfy  him.  He 
had  long  been  on  the  watch  for  an  opportunity  of 
inflicting  the  blow,  but,  till  this  evening,  had  not 
been  able  to  obtain  one.  On  this,  he  contrived 
to  obtain  access  to  a  room  opening  to  the  shrubbery, 
and  to  which,  he  had  previously  been  informed, 
Roscrea  was  often  in  the  habit  of  retiring,  when 
transiently  overcome  'with  wine.  Almost  beyond 
his  expectations  he  found  him  already  there,  wrapt 
in  a  heavy  slumber  ;  and  instantly  stealing  to  the 
couch,  plunged  his  dagger  in  his  side.  '  But  the 
transport  1  felt  in  inflicting  the  blow/  he  aclded, 
with  the  look  of  a  demon,  *  was  lessened  by  his  not 
being  in  a  state  to  know  the  hand  from  which  it 
came.  Starting  aside  to  avoid  his  bursting  blood, 


lC>  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

1  dropt  the  dagger :  I  thought  I  had  picked  it  up, 
but  now  find  it  was  only  the  sheath — a  mistake  that 
either  the  duskiness  of  the  hour,  or  some  little  con- 
fusion I  was  in,  did  not  sooner  permit  me  to  detect, 
and  which  I  cannot  help  being  agitated  at,  since, 
from  the  circumstance  of  my  crest  and  initials  be- 
ing on  the  handle,  if  found,  1  must  be  in  danger : 
but  all  may  yet  remain  undiscovered  in  the  apart- 
ment ;  it  may  not  yet  be  too  late  to  make  an  effort 
to  save  me  from  destruction/ 

'  I  waited  for  no  further  explanation ;  what  he  re- 
quired was  obvious.  With  a  charge  to  him  to  be 
on  his  guard,  lest  of  the  worst,  1  rushed  out  of  the 
house,  and  throwing  myself  on  my  horse,  set  off  full 
speed  for  Roscrea's.  Alighting  at  a  little  distance 
from  it,  I  cautiously  approached  the  shrubbery, 
where,  pausing  to  listen,  1  became  somewhat  reas- 
sured ;  convinced,  by  the  deathlike  stillness  that 
prevailed  around,  no  discovery  had  as  yet  taken 
place.  Making  my  way  softly  through  the  rustling 
trees,  1  at  length  gained  the  entrance  of  the  fatal 
chamber ;  for  a  minute  after  setting  my  foot  within 
it,  1  was  compelled  to  pause,  so  horrible  was  the 
image  my  fancy  conjured  up  to  view ;  with  diffi- 
culty 1  forced  myself  to  advance ;  guided  by  the 
twilight  that  faintly  gleamed  through  the  windows, 
I  shudderingly  approached  the  couch,  feeling,  as  I 
did  so,  with  my  foot  for  the  dagger.  The  stream- 
ing blood  had  rendered  the  floor  slippery,  and  with- 
in a  few  paces  of  it,  my  feet  suddenly  sliding  from 
under  me,  1  fell  with  a  force  against  it  that  threw 
me  on  the  body.  Good  God  !  what  was  my  hor- 
rible sensation  at  the  moment !  my  still  more  horri- 
ble one,  at  finding  a  hook  in  the  coat  had  caught 
in  mine !  ere  I  could  succeed  in  tearing  it  away, 
Ihe  door  openinfro  the  interior  of  the  house  burst 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  17 

open,  and  two  men,  one  of  them  bearing  a  light, 
entered,  with  a  loud  hollo,  intended  to  waken  him, 
who  slept,  alas!  to  wake  no  more. 

'  Even  now  1  feel  a  something  of  emotion  at  the 
idea  of  what  I  then  felt:  appearances  were  all 
against  me.  As  light  pervaded  the  room,  I  saw 
my  fall  upon  the  corpse  had  occasioned  me  to  be 
stained  with  blood ;  and  involuntarily  glancing 
downward,  beheld,  immediately  at  my  feet,  the 
fatal  dagger ;  added  to  which,  was  a  general  know- 
ledge of  the  enmity  subsisting  between  me  and  the 
deceased — the  unsubdued  attachment  1  entertain- 
ed for  his  wife.  The  terrible  situation  in  which  I 
had  placed  myself  struck  at  once  upon  my  mind; 
I  shuddered  at  the  thought  of  being  compelled, 
either  to  resign  myself  to  an  ignominious  fate,  or 
else  give  death  to  Elvira,  by  betraying  her  father 
to  it. — But  why  look  so  wild,  my  dear  girl  r'  sud- 
denly addressing  himself  to  Angeline. 

*  Oh!  at  the  idea  of  the  terrible  situation  you 
were  in.' 

De  Burgh  smiled — '  Your  sensibility  is  too  ex- 
quisite, my  love,'  he  said ;  '  since  I  find  1  have  so 
affected  you,  1  will,  for  the  present,  in  order  to  af- 
ford you  an  opportunity  of  recovering  yoursfclt", 
suspend  my  narrative.' 

'  No,  no/  eagerly  cried  Angeline  ;  '  for  though 
you  are  now  before  me,  though  I  hold  your  hand, 
though  1  gaze  in  your  face,  I  shall  not  be  able  to  re- 
spire freely  till  1  know  how  you  extricated  your- 
self/ 

'  Well,  my  love,  1  shall  not  needlessly  trifle  with 
your  feelings,  by  dwelling  on  the  equal  horror  and 
astonishment  of  the  intruders ;  one  of  whom  was 
a  relation  and  namesake  of  the  deceased,  and,  like 
him,  a  man  of  profligate  character  ;  and  the  pther, 

VOL,    II.  C 


IS  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

a  kind  of  dependant  of  both.  For  an  instant,  the 
shock  I  sustained  deprived  me  of  the  power  of  ar- 
ticulation. On  recovering  it,  I  protested  my  in- 
nocence, though  with  an  acknowledgment  of  my 
deeming  the  protestation  useless.  . 

'  Useless  indeed!'  repeated  the  kinsman  of  Ros- 
crea,  moving,  as  he  spoke,  to  secure  the  outer 
door ;  then  turning  towards  the  other,  was  on  the 
very  point  of  alarming  the  family,  when,  as  if 
struck  by  a  sudden  thought,  he  stopped;  and, 
after  a  momentary  pause,  softly  approaching  me, 
as  if  he  feared  the  ear  of  death  could  hear  him, 
'  Your  life,'  said  he,  with  a  pale  countenance,  of 
mysterious  import,  *  is  in  my  hands ;  but,  on  a  cer- 
tain condition,  1  may  be  induced  to  spare  it,  more 
especially  as  I  know  the  provocation  you  had  from 
the  deceased .' 

'  Impatiently  I  demanded  the  condition.  '  Why, 
I  presume/  he  resumed,  f  you  are  aware  of  my 
being  next  heir  to  Roscrea's  estate,  after  his  chil- 
dren :  this  very  morning,  tidings  were  received  of 
the  death  of  the  boy,  so  that  the  little  girl  now 
only  remains  between  me  and  the  possession  of  it. 
Now,  if  you'll  consent  to  remove  this  bar  to  my 
immediate  assumption  of  it  out  of  the  way,  I'll 
swear  never  to  charge  you  with  the  crime  you  have 
perpetrated.' 

'  What !'  1  languidly  demanded,  '  did  he  in  reali- 
ty want  me  to  imbrue  my  hands  in  blood  ?  the 
blood,  tco,  of  helpless  innocence  ?' 

*  13y  no  means/  he  returned,  with  a  shudder, 
that  convinced  me  of  his  sincerity ;  '  he  was  not 
so  vile  a  villain ;  all  he  wanted  of  me  was  to  take 
charge  of  the  child ;  and  for  obtaining  which  a 
scheme  could  easily  be  devised.' 

'  There  was  no  time  for  deliberation,  or  rather 


MONASTERY  OF  ST..COLUMB.  19 

no  alternative  between  acceding  to  his  proposition, 
or  resigning  myself  or  the  count  to  destruction. 
Accordingly  1  plighted  myself,  in  the  most  solemn 
manner,  to  remove  the  child  for  ever  out  of  his 
way ;  and  he  in  return  bound  himself,  by  a  sacred 
oath,  to  let  no  suspicion,  through  his  means,  glance 
at  me ;  but  he  abruptly  added  *  Lest  there  should 
not  be  on  each  side  equal  sincerity,  this/  sudden- 
ly wresting  the  dagger  from  me,  which  1  had  taken 
up,  ere  I  was  at  all  aware  of  his  having  an  intention 
of  the  kind,  *  shall  remain  here/  holding  it  up  to 
my  view  with  a  threatening  air,  as  '  a  damning 
corroboration  of  what,  in  that  case,  1  shall  be 
wrought  upon  to  disclose.' 

'  But  'tis  unnecessary  to  enter  into  any  further 
particulars  of  this  scene;  suffice  it,  that  every 
thing  necessary  towards  the  deception  he  had 
planned  being  arranged,  1  was  at  length  suffer- 
ed to  depart.  But  how  !  bound  to  commit  an  act 
of  injustice,  and  «»der  the  imputation  of  a  horrible 
crime  I  The  reflection  was  terrible ;  but  the  image 
of  Elvira  dying  over  a  fettered  father,  confirmed 
the  resolution  it  began  to  shake. 

*  I  found  the  count  almost  sunk  beneath  the  hor* 
rors  to  which  my  departure  had  consigned  him, 
His  quivering  lips,  the  ashy  whiteness  of  his  cheel^ 
his  starting  eyeballs,  wildly  rolling  at  every  sound, 
gave  me  clearly  to  see — 

'  That  Conscience  doth  make  cowards  of  us  all.' 

'  Oh  God !  who  would  resign  the  peace  of  vir- 
tue, the  ennobling  confidence  it  inspires,  for  aught 
this  world  can  bestow  in  exchange  ?  The  count 
now  began  to  feel,  that  revenge,  though  sweet  at 
first,  *  bitter  ere  long,  back  on  itself  recoils/  now, 
when  the  reflection  of  the  deed  it  had  led  him  to 


20  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

commit  made  him  start  and  shrink  within  himself 
at  the  moving  of  a  shadow.  Seized  with  an  invin- 
cible dread,  he  persevered  in  setting  out  the  next 
morning  for  the  place  of  embarkatiow;  not,  how- 
ever, without  its  being  previously  settled,  that  as 
soon  as  its  mother  had  joined  him  in  Spain,  of 
which  her  immediately  doing  he  entertained  no 
doubt,  his  infant  grandchild  should  also  be  convey- 
ed hither  ;  and  whose  unexpected  restoration  to 
its  parent  would,  he  flattered  himself,  make  her 
ample  atonement  for  the  pain  its  supposed  death 
must  cost  her ;  and  to  account  for  permitting  such 
a  supposition  to  prevail,  he  was  not  without  a  hope 
of  being  able  satisfactorily  to  do. 

'  In  consequence  of  the  arrangement  made  with 
the  kinsman  of  the  child,  I  was  unable  to  delay  to 
witness  his  departure ;  agreeably  to  it,  1  proceed- 
ed to  a  certain  place,  where  receiving  the  child 
from  the  interested  witness  of  our  secret  compact, 
I  proceeded  forthwith  with  it  to  ihe  wife  of  a  puur 
cotter,  whom  1  had  previously  prepared  for  its  re- 
ception ;  while  he  rode  back  to  report  its  death,  of 
the  same  disorder  which  had,  the  preceding  day, 
^carried  off  its  little  brother. 

'  My  precious  charge  deposited,  I  hastened 
home,  and  with  the  feelings  of  a  person  anticipat- 
ing some  terrible  convulsion,  presageful  of  some 
overwhelming  shock,  waited  the  dreaded  coming  of 
the  morning.  The  horrible  catastrophe  it  announc- 
ed threw  the  whole  neighbourhood  into  consterna- 
tion :  the  usual  measures  were  of  course  immedi- 
ately had  recourse  to,  for  discovering  the  perpe- 
trator, but  in  vain ;  suspicion  glanced  at  several, 
but  without  once  pointing  at  the  real  author.  In- 
deed, I  believe  the  idea  of  his  having  committed 
the  crime  would  have  been  considered  too  mon- 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  21 

strous  a  one  for  any  one  to  have  given  it  admission. 
What  I  endured  while  these  inquiries,  these  inqui- 
sitions, were  going  on,  you  may  easier  conceive 
than  1  describe — the  state  of  anxiety,  of  appre- 
hension, of  agitation,  in  which  they  kept  me — a 
state  rendered  still  more  painful  by  the  air  of  in- 
difference and  composure  I  was  feign  to  assume. 

'  Gradually  subsiding,  1  was  again  beginning  to 
breathe  with  something  of  freedom,  when  again  I 
was  destined  to  experience  the  cruellest  conflicts, 
by  the  shock  imparted  to  my  harassed  feelings  by 
the  unexpected  dealh  of  the  ill-fated  Elvira;  at 
least  unexpected  to  me,  unapprized  as  I  was  of  the 
innovations  of  long-suffering  on  her  constitution. 
She  sunk  beneath  the  shock  of  recent  events.  She 
could  not  affect  grief  for  the  loss  of  a  tyrannic 
husband,  but  then  the  manner  of  his  death  was 
dreadful ;  and  the  imagined  loss  of  her  two  lovely 
infants  was  an  overwhelming  stroke  to  a  heart  like 
hers.  In  little  more  than  a  month  after  the  decease 
of  her  husband,  £  slow  through  the  church-way 
path  1  saw  her  borne/  to  that  bed  where  the  sun 
shines  without  awaking. 

'  I  immediately  resolved  on  abandoning  the 
neighbourhood,  unable  to  endure  the  feelings  it 
kept  alive ;  besides,  I  did  not  conceive  myself 
perfectly  secure  in  it,  from  the  change  that  might, 
it  was  possible,  1  reflected,  take  place  in  the  senti- 
ments of  Koscrea ;  and,  exclusive  of  this  conside- 
ration, I  could  not  feel  myself  at  ease,  could  not 
act,  as  if  1  retained  my  self  esteem,  that  esteem  so 
essential  to  the  support  of  dignity  of  character,  in 
a  place  where  I  was  conscious  1  secretly  laboured 
under  the  horrible  imputation  of  an  atrocious  crime. 
My  thoughts  directly  turned  to  Spain  ;  so  true  it 
is,  that  there,  where  delicious  affections  have  been 
c  2 


22  MONASTERY    OP    ST.    COLUMB, 

first  awakened,  they  ever  after  hover. — Greatly  as 
1  detested  the  character  of  the  count,  yet  still  the 
idea,  that  with  him  I  should  be  indulged  in  con- 
versing of  my  beloved,  rendered  soothing  that  of 
fixing  my  abode  near  him ;  besides,  I  wished  to 
be  where  I  should  have  an  opportunity  of  uniting 
in  patching  over  her  child,  of  guarding  her  from 
injury  or  evil,  should  she  be  suddenly  deprived  of 
his  protection,  to  which  I  had  no  doubt  of  his  re- 
quiring her  to  be  immediately  resigned. 

'  Accordingly  1  directly  steered  my  course  for 
his  residence  in  the  Alpuxarros  mountains ;  but  I 
was  disappointed  of  finding  him  there  ;  he  had  no 
more  returned  to  it ;  an  aged  hermit  was  now  the 
sole  inmate  of  the  once  magnificent  pile  :  stript  of 
all  its  gorgeous  decorations,  it  was  abandoned  to 
decay.  *  Tribulation  had  taken  the  seat  of  hospi- 
tality ;  and  where  the  jocund  guest  had  laughed 
over  the  sparkling  bowl,  adders  hissed,  and  owls 
sung  their  strains  of  melancholy  to  the  moonshine 
that  slept  upon  its  mouldering  battlements/  Oh  ! 
how  chilling  my  sensations  at  the  reverse  it  pre- 
sented to  my  view !  Forgetting,  for  a  minute,  in 
the  fever  of  agitated  feelings,  the  lapse  of  years,  I 
called  upon  her  who  could  no  more  answer  me,  as 
1  roved  through  the  desolate  apartments,  but  with- 
out hearing  any  sound,  save  that  of  the  breeze, 
that  was  wont  to  lift  her  heavy  locks,  sighing  with 
its  mournful  voice,  through  the  scattered  arms  of 
her  fathers,  in  the  ancient  hall.  *  Where  art  thou, 
my  love/  I  cried,  '  with  thy  songs  ?  where,  with 
Ihe  soft  sound  of  thy  steps  ?'  Recollection  sud- 
•i^nly  returned ;  and  the  frenzy  of  idle  impatience 
yielded  to  the  torpifying  influence  of  despair/ 

Again  D  t  Burgh  paused  ;  and  suddenly  rising, 
walked  to  the  other  end  of  the  room  :  and  again 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  23 

Angeline  was  a  mute  though  not  an  unconcerned 
spectator  of  his  emotion,  aware  that  feelings  like 
his  were  best  soothed  by  being  indulged.  In  a  few 
minutes,  however,  he  had  sufficiently  recovered 
himself  to  be  able  to  resume  his  seat,  though  not 
his  narrative,  and  which,  indeed,  the  appearance 
of  the  landlady,  just  at  this  time,  to  lay  the  cloth, 
and  who,  like  Scrub,  was  all  and  every  thing  by 
turns,  prevented. 

But  bustle  was  the  soul  of  her  enjoyment ;  the 
greater  the  hurry,  the  greater  her  pleasure.  Not 
satisfied  this  day,  with  playing  the  part  of  the  at- 
tendant, she  also,  out  of  the  affection  she  bore  fa- 
ther Cormac,  almost  took  upon  herself  doing  the 
honours  of  the  table,  pointing  out  what  she  con- 
ceived the  best,  and  pressing  her  guests  to  eat. 

Such  hospitality,  in  a  person  of  her  description, 
was  rather  a  novel  circumstance  to  Angeline,  and 
therefore  amused,  as  well  as  pleased  her,  both  as  a 
trait  of  national  manners,  and  a  trait  of  real  good 
nature. 

A  doubt  had  been  suggested,  by  what  Angeline 
had  already  heard,  that  agitated  her  too  much  not 
to  render  her  anxious  in  the  extreme  for  the  con- 
tinuance of  the  narrative  ;  but,  notwithstanding, 
she  feared  to  urge  it,  lest  a  longer  respite  should 
be  necessary  to  the  narrator.  But  nearly  as  de- 
sirous as  she  was  to  have  it  brought  to  a  conclusion, 
he  required  no  solicitation  or  hint  on  the  subject ; 
of  his  own  accord,  soon  after  they  again  found 
themselves  alone,  he  proposed  resuming  it,  and  ac- 
cordingly did  as  follows. 


24  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 


CHAP.  II. 

Stupid  he  sat,  his  eyes  on  earth  declined, 
And  various  care  revolving  in  his  mind ; 
Rage,  boiling  from  the  bottom  of  his  breast, 
And  sorrow,  mix'd  With  shame,  his  soul  oppressed  ; 
And  conscious  worth  lay  lab'riug  in  his  thought, 
And  love,  by  jealousy,  to  madness  wrought ;   " 
By  slow  degrees,  hia  reason  drove  away 
The  raiats  of  passion,  and  resum'd  her  sway. 

DKYD    VIRO. 

*  I  AM  now  coming  to  that- part  of  my  relation,  my 
dear  girl,  which  immediately  concerns  you.  With 
difficulty  1  discovered  the  count,  so  obscure  was 
the  retreat  to  which  the  dread  inspired  by  guilt 
had  driven  him.  In  one  selfish  consideration,  that 
of  his  own  safety,  every  other  now  seemed  ab- 
sorbed. He  heard  of  the  death  of  his  daughter 
with  an  air  of  gloomy  insensibility ;  and  far  from 
expressing  any  solicitude  about  her  helpless  orphan, 
protested  neither  his  state  of  mind,  nor  health, 
would  allow  of  his  personal  care  of  her. 

'  Then  on  me  let  the  sacred  charge  devolve  !' 
1  warmly  and  involuntarily  exclaimed  ;  '  let  me  be 
the  person  delegated  to  supply  to  her  the  place  of 
every  natural  tie ;  let  me  have  the  ecstatic  happi- 
ness of  becoming  the  guardian  of  Elvira's  orphan 
child!' 

'  The  count  coolly  assented  to  the  proposition, 
and  still  more  coolly  said  some  thing  of  asettlement, 
to  prevent  her  being  any  tax  upon  me;  but  I 
spurned  at  the  idea,  both  from  the  manner  in  which 
it  was  mentioned,  and  my  own  superabundant 
means  of  giving  her  every  requisite  advantage. 

'  Impatient  to  have  her  under  my  care,  1  short- 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  25 

\y  separated  from  the  count,  for  the  purpose  of 
proceeding  in  quest  of  a  habitation,  which,  from 
many  considerations,  I  still  persevered  in  deter- 
mining should  be  Spain.  Journeying  in  pursuit  of 
this,  I  at  length  found  myself  in  the  ancient  and 
Fomantic  town  of  Loxa,  where  chance  threw  in  my 
way  an  old  friend  of  the  name  of  Power,  the  son 
of  a  family  with  whom  mine  had  ever  been  in  habits 
of  the  strictest  intimacy,  and  one  of  my  earliest 
friends. 

'  Our  joy  at  this  unexpected  meeting  was  mu- 
tual, from  the  delight  each  manifested  at  it ;  it  was 
evident  that  the  long  suspension  of  our  correspon- 
dence, owing  to  his  having  entered  the  Spanish 
service,  had  not  weakened  our  attachment.  But 
though  1  found  him  still  retaining  all  that  warmth 
of  heart,  that  ardent  sensibility,  which  so  irresisti- 
bly attracted  my  affections  towards  him,  1  found 
him  no  longer  in  possession  of  the  enviable  viva- 
city that  had  once  distinguished  him ;  but  I 
ceased  to  be  at  a  loss  to  account  for  this  change, 
when  I  understood  the  domestic  calamity  he  had 
recently  sustained,  in  the  death  of  an  amiable  and 
lovely  wife,  the  object  of  a  long  attachment, 
though  circumstances  of  a  particular  nature  had, 
for  a  length  of  time,  delayed  their  union ;  and  for 
whom  his  regret  was  so  unconquerable,  as  to  have 
induced  him  to  withdraw  entirely  from  active  life, 
to  a  delightful  seat,  which,  in  right  of  her,  he  pos- 
sessed in  the  neighbourhood. 

'  The  secret  sympathy,  excited  by  the  similarity 
of  our  afflictions,  rendered  me  more  than  ever 
pleased  in  his  society,  and,  by  degrees,  impelled 
me  to  unbounded  confidence  in  him.  The  result 
was  a  pressing  entreaty  to  pause  where  I  was,  or, 
in  other  words,  take  up  my  abode  witJi  him.  The 
proposal  was  too  tempting  to  be  resisted;  my 


20  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMii. 

heart,  wounded,  but  not  chilled,  sighed  for  retire- 
ment, but  not  solitude.  Accordingly,  there  being 
nothing  further  to  delay  my  departure,  1  was  soon 
on  ray  way  back  again  to  Ireland,  for  my  little 
charge.  The  transient  view  I  had  previously  of 
her  features  scarce  allowed  me  to  know  what  she 
was ;  but  now,  on  her  being  presented  to  me,  I  be- 
held a  perfect  cher.ub.  Good  God!  what  were 
my  emotions  on  extending  my  arms  to  receive  to 
them  the  supposed  child  of  the  deceased  Elvira !' 

Angeline  uttered  a  faint  exclamation — '  The  sup- 
posed child  !'  she  exclaimed,  with  a  look  of  wild* 
ness  and  dismay.  'Oh  Heavens!  who  then  am 
J.  ?  Already  1  anticipated  having  no  natural  claims 
upon  you,  and  now,  I  find  that  those  allowed  me, 
irom  affection  for  another,  were  also  unfounded !' 

De  Burgh,  tenderly  taking  her  hand,  conjured 
her,  in  a  soothing  tone,  to  restrain  her  anxiety,  al- 
leging the  impossibility  of  being  able  to  fully  satis- 
fy it,  except  allovrcd  te  proceed  yuinteprwptcMlly. 

Angeline,  for  the  first  time,  found  it  difficult  to 
obey  him ;  she  forced  herself,  however,  to  do  so, 
ind  he  thus  continued  : 

'  Over  your  years  of  childhood  I  shall  briefly 
pass  ;  merely  observing,  that  if  1  loved  you  first 
tor  the  sake  of  her  to  whom  1  imagined  you  belong- 
ed, I  soon  loved  you  for  your  own  alone,  To  de- 
scribe the  powerful  interest  you  created  in  my 
heart,  is  utterly  impossible;  but  how  resistless  is 
the  appeal  of  smiling  innocence,  the  endearing 
charms  of  early  infancy,  charms  that,  in  you,  were 
heightened  by  cherub  beauty,  and  playful  sweet- 
ness ! 

'  Not  without  difficulty  could  1  bring  myself  to 
resign  you,  for  a  time,  to  the  care  of  others ;  but  to 
render  your  education  perfect,  I  knew  the  measure 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  27 

necessary ;  and  accordingly  ventured  over  to  Eng- 
land, for  the  purpose  of  placing  you  at  a  boarding- 
school  there,  wishing  to  have  you  educated  in  the 
Protestant  faith,  in  consequence  of  your  supposed 
father  having  embraced  that  religion.  Owing  to 
this,  my  friend  Power  was  not  altogether  prepared 
for  the  sight  of  a  lovely  young  woman,  instead  of  a 
playful  child,  on  your  return  to  Spain 

*  With  a  kind  of  joyful  eagerness,  I  hurried  you, 
as  you  may  remember,  to  the  remote  apartment  in 
which  he  was  often  wont  to  immure  himself  for 
hours  at  a  time.  Deeply  engaged  with  a  book,  he 
heeded  not  our  entrance,  as  you  may  also  remem- 
ber, until  I  laughingly  called  to  him  to  look  up,  and 
welcome  home  his  little  playfellow)  Languidly  he 
obeyed  me,  but  to  what  an  animated  expression  of 
rapture,  of  admiration,  of  delight,  did  his  air  of  lan- 
guor give  place,  the  instant  he  cast  his  eyes  upon 
you!  1  smiled  at  his  emotion,  little  aware  of  the 
real  nature  of  it,  little  aware  of  the  pulses  of  passion 
still  throbbing  as  wildly  as  ever  at  his  heart ;  that 
the  feelings  to~which  he  had  abandoned  himself  had 
but  quickened  his  perception  of  what  was  beauti- 
ful and  interesting;  that  softened  by  the  habitual 
indulgence  of  unrestrained  sensibility,  he  was  but 
too  exquisitely  susceptible.  The  charms  that  burst 
so  suddenly  upon  him  were  heightened  by  a  fan- 
cied resemblance  between  their  possessor  and  her 
whom  he  had  so  long  mourned,  and  with  whom  he 
had  experienced  such  blissful  enjoyment.  Long 
was  it,  however,  ere  1  in  the  least  suspected  the 
inclination  with  which  he  was  inspired;  nor  can 
this  be  wondered  at,  striving,  as  he  did,  for  some 
time  against  it,  from  the  consideration  of  the  im- 
propriety of  its  object,  or  rather,  an  apprehen- 
sion of  the  light  of  a  relative,  in  which  she  had 
been  taught  to  regard  him,  proving  injurious  to 


Q8  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

his  wishes.  But,  on  a  topic  1  perceive  so  painful 
I  will  not  enlarge.  With  the  indignation  he  has 
excited  in  your  bosom,  I  know  is  mingled  commis- 
eration. 1  know,  from  the  impression  his  kind  at- 
tentions, his  persuasive  eloquence,  the  graces  of 
his  manner  and  appearance,  must  have  made  upon 
your  mind,  that  his  weakness  can  never  be  a  pleas- 
ing theme  to  you. 

'  But  ere  I  come  to  the  circumstance  that  first 
gave  me  an  insight  into  his  feelings,  'tis  necessary  to 
reveal  another  to  you.  While  you  were  yet  absent 
from  what  you  had  been  so  long  taught  to  consider 
your  native  home,  i  was  surprised,  one  day,  by  a 
message  from  a  lady  in  a  convent,  more  immediate- 
ly in  the  environs  than  yours,  requesting  to  see  me. 
Obeying  it,  this  surprise  was  heightened,  by  recog- 
nising in  her  the  wife  of  the  then  possessor  of  the 
Roscrea  estate — a  woman  of  very  amiable  manners, 
but  who,  through  the  tyrannical  conduct  of  her 
husband,  had  been  compelled  to  take  refuge  in  her 
present  retreat.  Having  thanked  me  for  my  prompt 
attention  to  her  request,  she  would  not,  she  said, 
apologize  for  the  liberty  of  it,  satisfied,  when  her 
motive  for  desiring  an  interview  was  explained,  I 
would  deem  no  excuse  for  it  necessary. 

e  This  preface,  as  you  may  believe,  whetted  not 
a  lit  tie  my  impatience  for  the  explanation  of  the 
motive  thus  alluded  to.  Reading  it  in  my  looks, 
^he  briefly  proceeded  to  inform  me,  that  discover- 
ing, by  chance,  my  being  a  resident  in  the  same 
place  with  her,  she  had  immediately  determined 
on  availing  herself  of  the  discovery,  to  reveal  a  se- 
cret that  had  long  lain  heavy  on  her  heart. 

'Like  the  unhappy  Elvira,  her  children  were 
brutally  torn  from  her,  by  way  of  punishment,  for 
some  opposition  to  the  will  of  her  tyrant,  and  sent 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  29 

to  the  same  place  where  they  were.  The  young- 
est, a  boy,  was  the  darling  of  her  heart.  Unable 
to  depart  the  kingdom  without  again  seeing  him, 
again  clasping  him  to  her  fond  bosom,  she  rested 
not,  until  a  day  or  two  previous  to  her  quitting  it, 
she  had  obtained  access  to  him.  But  all  her  ma- 
ternal tenderness  renewed  by  his  sight ;  the  en- 
dearing caresses  he  bestowed  on  her,  her  despair  at 
the  idea  of  parting  from  him,  became  so  violent, 
that  partly  through  terror,  partly  compassion,  the 
woman  who  had  him  in  charge  consented  to  her 
proposal  of  passing  his  little  cousin  for  him,  whose 
likeness  to  him  was  so  great,  that  but  little  appre- 
hension of  the  imposition  being  detected  was  enter- 
tained, especially  as  the  child  had  then  been  some 
months  absent  from  home  ;  and  letting  the  sudden 
disappearance  of  her  son  be  accounted  for  by  a  re- 
port of  his  death,  as  the  child  of  the  other  Ros- 
crea. 

*  But  for  my  selfish  consideration  for  my  own 
feelings/  she  added  '  I  was  shortly  punished,  by 
the  death  of  my  lovely  boy,  soon  after  my  arrival 
here ;  since  when,  I  have  been  a  prey  to  remorse, 
as  well  as  grief,  for  the  deception  practised;  more 
especially,  from  the  reflection  of  its  having  been 
the  means  of  preventing  the  child's  immediate  suc- 
cession to  the  inheritance  of  his  father ;  but  though 
anxious  to  atone  for  it,  as  far  as  lay  in  my  power,  I 
was  still  withheld  from  the  confession  necessary  for 
the  purpose,  by  a  dread  of  the  ungovernable  fury 
of  Mr.  Roscrea,  without  the  interposition  of  some 
person  between  us.' 

'  I  exerted  myself  to  calm  her  agitated  mind ; 
no  argument,  however,  for  the  purpose,  so  effectu- 
ally tended  to  do  this,  as  my  giving  it  as  my  decid- 
ed opinion,  that,  since  the  confession  had  been  so 

VOL.  n.  D 


SO  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

long  delayed,  it  were  better  to  avoid  it  entirely, 
especially  as  the  withholding  it  would  not  eventu- 
ally be  of  any  injury  to  the  boy :  for  this,  apparent- 
ly strange,  advice,  what  1  have  already  disclosed 
must  account ;  in  return  for  the  consolation  it  was 
said  I  had  imparted,  1  demanded  inviolable  secresy, 
relative  to  our  interview,  and  my  residence  at 
Loxa 

'  I  shall  pass  over  the  reflections  suggested  by 
her  unexpected  disclosure,  only  observing,,  that  I 
could  not  but  admire  at  the  means  by  which  an  in- 
tended wrong  had  been  prevented.  It  was  a  con- 
siderable time  after  this,  that,  as  we  were  returning 
one  delightful  evening,  as  you  may  recollect,  from 
a  romantic  ramble,  that  had  led  us  to  the  Pina  de 
los  Enamorados,  that  spot  rendered  so  interesting 
by  the  tradition  concerning  it,  a  tradition,  that  with 
all  the  graces  he  so  well  knew  how  to  bestow  on  a 
relation  of  the  kind,  Power,  on  whose  arm  you 
leaned,  was  giving  you,  when  a  young  cavalier,  who 
had  for  some  time  been  sauntering  after  us,  suffi- 
ciently near  to  over-hear  our  conversation,  sudden- 
ly joined  us,  with  a  request  for  permission  to  intro- 
duce himself  to  us  as  a  countryman. 

*  That  name  was  sufficient  of  itself  to  have 
excited  an  interest  for  him  ;  but  a  still  livelier 
one  than  that  alone  could  have  created  was 
immediately  excited  in  my  breast,  by  the  like- 
ness I  instantly  traced  in  his  features  to  those 
of  the  lamented  Elvira,  a  likeness  that  in  vain  I 
had  sought  in  yours.  For  a  minute  1  gaz«d  at  him 
in  silent  raphire,  then  extending  my  hand,  with  all 
the  cordiality  of  an  old  friend,  expressed  the  pleas- 
ure his  sight  afforded,  and  insisted  on  his  completing 
it  by  accompanying  us  home,  and  passing  a  few 
days  with  us,  glancing,  as  I  spoke,  at  Power,  to 
join  me  in  the  invitation. 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLtMB.  31 

'  But  instead  of  doing  this,  he  only  merely  bow- 
ed, measuring,  as  I  thought,  the  youth  at  the  moment 
with  a  supercilious  look,  i  felt  surprise,  and  some- 
thing of  resentment,  but  checked  myself  from  any  in- 
dication of  the  latter,  by  the  reflection  of  his  capri- 
ciousness,  owing  to  the  humours  in  which  he  had  in- 
dulged himself ;  and  that,  probably,  from  the  real 
urbanity  and  hospitality  of  his  nature,  he  would  ere 
long  seek  to  atone  for  what  at  present  seemed  re- 
pulsive. 

*  He  gradually  drew  you  away,  as  you  may  re* 
member,  and  hurried  you  on.     My  new  compan- 
ion and  1  slowly  followed  ;  for  the  pleasure  1  took 
in  gazing  at  him,  in  listening  to  him,  made  me  in- 
voluntarily linger.     The  more  I  looked  at  him,  the 
more  I  was  struck  with  his  resemblance  to  her  I 
had  loved.     The  smile  of  feminine  sweetness  that 
dimpled  his  sun- tinted  cheek,  the  fine  contour  of 
his  open  countenance,  the  dark  eyes,  sparkling  be- 
neath long  lashes,  so  penetrating,  yet  affectionate 
in  their  expression,  were  all  hers. 

*  With  difficulty  I  repressed  the  emotion  occa- 
sioned by  this  likeness ;  but  how  almost  impossible 
to  maintain  any  longer  control  over  it,  when,  en* 
quiring  the  part  of  Ireland  he  came  from,  I  found  he 
was  indeed  the  son  of  Elvira !  1  checked  myself 
from  enfolding  him  to  jny  heart,  but  the  agitated 
pressure  of  his  hand  at  the  moment  surprised  him 
almost  as  much  as  that  could  possibly  have  done. 
His  look  recalling  me  to  recollection,  I  endeavour- 
ed to  resume  an  air  of  composure,  but  still  could 
hardly  forbear  demanding,  whether  some  secret  in- 
stinct had  not  guided  him  to  the  spot  where  he  was 
to  meet  with  so  near  a  relation  as  1  then  thought 
you  to  him. 

'  I  found  he  had  been  to  visit  his  supposed  me- 


32  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

ther,  and  that  a  sense  of  filial  duty,  as  much  as  any 
other  motive,  had  been  his  inducement  for  a  journey 
to  Spain. 

t  From  the  confidence  I  had  previously  reposed 
in  Power,  you  may  be  surprised  at  my  determina- 
tion to  conceal  this  unexpected  discovery  from  him  ; 
but  his  conduct  had  latterly  become  so  strange  and 
inconsistent,  as  to  deter  me  from  any  further  dis- 
closure to  him.  We  found  you  in  the  antique  hall, 
overlooking  the  garden.  The  silver  Gemil,  flow- 
ing at  ihe  foot  of  its  enchanting  terraces,  reflected 
ihe  bright  visage  of  the  luminary,  whose  beams 
alone  gave  light  to  the  apartment,  but  a  light  from 
the  purity  of  the  atmosphere,  sufficiently  brilliant 
to  render  every  object  in  it  conspicuous.  The  ar- 
omatic herbs,  that  in  such  profusion  cover  the 
mountains  of  that  enchanting  province,  scented  the 
air,  on  which  came  trembling,  at  intervals,  the  thrill- 
ing notes  of  the  nightingale,  that,  as  in  the  garden  of 
Capulet,  sung  nightly  on  a  pomegranate  tree.  All 
was  serene  and  beautiful.  The  ear  caught  no  sound, 
the  eye  no  object,  that  was  not  calculated  to  at- 
tune the  feelings,  to  exalt  the  imagination,  and  dis- 
pose the  heart  to  still  greater  tenderness.  It 
was  the  hour  of  visionary  bliss-  The  music 
that  met  our  ears  on  our  entrance,  proclaimed  its 
influence  upon  your  feelings.  You  would  have  laid 
aside  the  guitar  on  our  joining  you,  but  were  pre- 
vented by  the  impassioned  entreaty  of  my  young 
companion  :  how  well  did  the  enchantment  of  its 
full  rich  tones,  touched  as  it  was  by  the  hand  of 
taste  and  delicacy,  agree  with  the  scene  !  But  they 
had  not  the  effect  on  all.  Power,  from  a  seat  in  the 
obscurest  corner,  on  which  he  had  flung  himself, 
wilh  a  sullen  air,  suddenly  started  up,  and  rushed 
past  you  ta  the  garden ,  Long  aware,  though  with- 


MONASTERY    OP    ST.    COLUMB.  3$ 

out  surmising  to  what  your  powerful  influence  over 
him  was  owing,  that  none  like  you  could  sooth  him 
in  these  moments  of  nervous  irritations,  to  which 
alone  1  imputed  now  his  apparently  extraordinary 
conduct,  1  motioned  for  you  to  follow  him  ;  you 
obeyed,  and  found  him,  as  you  told  me,  extended 
on  the  ground  :  h«  started  up  at  the  sound  of  a 
footstep,  and  would  have  fled,  but  that  your  voice 
prevented  him.  Turning,  the  moment  he  found  it 
was  you  that  sought  him,  he  eagerly  seized  your 
hand,  and  fastened  his  eyes  upon  you,  with  a  look 
that  seemed  to  intimate  a  wish  of  reading  yours. 
Their  calm  expression  had  an  instantaneous  effect 
upon  him ;  the  wildness  of  his  agitation  subsided  ; 
and  returning  with  you  to  the  hall,  joined  a  little  in 
the  conversation  that  was  going  forward,  but  still 
without  that  recovered  air  of  urbanity  I  had  hoped 
to  have  seen  in  his  manner. 

*  His  continued  coldness  and  constraint  had  the 
effect  of  heightening  my  attentions  to  my  young 
companion,  as  a  means  of  preventing  his  noticing 
the  circumstance,  and  thus,  perhaps,  shortening  a 
visit  from  which  I  derived  such  gratification.  But 
had  I  been  able  to  have  looked  into  his  heart,  I 
should  not  have  been  under  any  apprehension  of 
this  nature,  from  the  spell  I  should  then  have  dis- 
covered cast  over  him.  Fearful,  however,  he  mght 
entertain  an  idea  of  the  kind,  I  rested  not,  after  he 
had  been  a  few  days  with  us,  till  I  obtained  a  pro- 
mise of  his  remaining  some  weeks.  To  vary  his 
stay,  we  took,  as  you  may  recollect,  several  delight- 
ful excursions,  excursions  evidently  productive  of 
the  greatest  pleasure  to  you,  though  with  all  the  ro- 
mantic and  interesting  scenes  in  the  neighbourhood, 
I  should  rather  say,  province,  you  were  already 
well  acquainted,  owing  to  the  lively  remarks  they 
D  2 


34  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMJB. 

elicited  from  your  companion.  Our  chagrin,  you 
must  remember,  was  often  great,  at  Power's  uni- 
formly declining,  with  an  air  of  savage  sullenness, 
to  accompany  us  in  any  of  them  ;  but  though  he 
regularly  refused  to  set  out  with  us,  he  was  always 
sure  to  join  us  before  we  returned  ;  sometimes 
stealing  upon  us  with  the  cautious  air  of  suspicion, 
sometimes  starting  on  us  with  all  the  wildness  of  a 
person  expecting  to  make  some  agitating  discove- 
ry- 

'  At  length  my  eyes  began  to  open  to  the  truth  ; 
at  length  the  real  cause  of  all  this  strangeness, 
this  eccentricity,  became  obvious.  1  began  to 
see  that  he  loved,  and  that  jealousy  was  the 
cause  of  all  this  inconsistency.  My  uneasiness, 
or  rather,  unhappiness  at  the  discovery,  was  ex- 
treme ;  yet  faint,  trifling,  to  what  I  sustained  at 
that  which  speedily  followed  it,  of  your  having  also 
inspired  the  bosom  of  my  young  friend  with  a  simi- 
lar passion.  Good  God !  never  shall  1  forget  what  I 
felt  at  the  confession  of  his  attachment,  a  confes- 
sion, for  which  I  was  as  much  unprepared,  as  if  I 
had  believed  in  the  utter  impossibility  of  his  con- 
ceiving such  an  attachment,  or  rather,  in  the  exis- 
tence of  a  secret  instinct,  to  guard  him  from  forming 
one  of  the  kind. 

'  Our  last  excursion,  as  you  may  recollect,  was 
to  Granada,  in  which,  as  usual,  we  were  joined  in 
the  course  of  the  day,  though  not  at  the  com- 
mencement, by  Power.  We  had  viewed  every 
thing  that  was  worth  seeing,  yet  the  decline  of  even- 
ing found  us  still  lingering  on  the  heights  of  the 
Alhambra,  unable  to  tear  ourselves  away  from  so 
enchanting  a  scene,  or  rather  detained  there  by 
that  secret  charm  attached  to  whatever  the  poet. 
01-  historian  has  rendered  interesting.  Slowly 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMb.  3^> 

sauntering  on,  now  stopping  to  inhale  the  sweet*. 
wafted  by  the  delicious  Tbreezes  from  the  gardens 
scattered  on  the  declivities  of  the  neighbouring 
hills ;  now  to  survey  the  concourse  of  people  sitting 
on  the  grass ;  now  to  listen  to  the  busy  venders  of 
toys  and  refreshments,  we  reached  the  enchanting 
gardens  of  the  Generaliff,  not  without  the  unhappy 
fortune  of  the  ill-fated  Abdali  being  forcibly  re- 
called to  recollection,  by  our  passing  to  them 
through  the  gate  which  had  favoured  his  escape, 
on  the  taking  of  Granada. 

'  Our  small  party  was,  as  usual,  whenever  Pow- 
er made  one  of  it,  divided.  He  and  you  preceded 
Roscrea  and  me ;  I  saw  the  eyes  of  my  companion 
pursue  you,  but,  though  his  looks  betrayed  impa- 
tience to  follow,  the  contemplations  I  was  indulg- 
ing would  not  permit  me  to  quicken  my  pace.  On 
a  sudden,  we  saw  you  pause  at  the  cypresses  of  the 
sultana  queen,  and,  from  the  impassioned  gestures 
of  your  companion,  and  your  fixed  attention,  in- 
stantly surmised,  the  tradition  from  which  they 
derive  their  title  being  the  subject  of  your  dis- 
course. 

'  lloscrea  made  a  movement  for  joining  you,  but 
catching  his  arm,  to  call  his  attention  to  something 
else  that  had  caught  mine  at  the  moment,  1  pre- 
vented him.  He  faintly  struggled  to  release  him- 
self; then  suddenly  yielding  to  my  effort — <  No' 
cried  he,  '  1  will  not  yet  join  her,  for  such  another 
opportunity,  for  revealing  what  I  wish  to  disclose, 
may  not  again  speedily  occur.'  He  now,  of  his 
own  accord,  passed  his  arm  under  mine,  and  led 
me  in  a  different  direction.  For  a  few  minutes  he 
hesitated ;  then  urged  by  feelings  of  resistless  im- 
petuosity, frankly  avowed  his  passion  for  you,  and 
conviction  of  obtaining  his  father's  immediate  con- 


36  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB, 

sent  to  your  union,  provided  mine  was  previously 
secured. 

s  1  have  already  touched  on  the  shock  this  avow- 
al gave  me,  a  shock  heightened  by  the  terrible  idea 
that  instantly  suggested  itself,  your  perhaps  par- 
ticipating in  the  sentiment  you  had  inspired.  For 
a  few  minutes  my  confusion  and  distress  were  too 
great  to  allow  of  any  kind  of  reply  ;  then  a  little  re- 
collecting myself,  I  decided  on  an  unreserved  dis- 
closure to  him,  as  soon  as  possible,  in  order  to  ef- 
fectually relieve  myself  from  the  fearful  apprehen- 
sion I  felt  I  should  otherwise  still  continue  to  labour 
under.  Accordingly,  but  with  a  countenance  that 
made  him  turn  pale,  from  the  chill  it  threw  upon  his 
hopes,  I  begged  of  him  to  let  the  subject  drop  for 
the  present,  nor  renew  it  till  our  return  to  Loxa, 
when  I  should  take  an  early  opportunity  of  ex- 
plaining myself  on  it.  Our  return  took  place  the 
next  day ;  and,  solicitous  to  relieve  both  him  and 
myself  from  the  suspense  and  anxiety  each  labour- 
ed under,  I  immediately  after  came  to  the  promised 
explanation.  How  he  was  affected  by  my  com- 
munication, may  easier  be  conceived  than  de- 
scribed. Nothing  passionate,  nothing  intempe- 
rate, however,  escaped  his  lips.  He  submitted 
with  patience,  though  not  without  regret,  to  fate  ; 
fully  confirming,  by  the  manner  in  which  he  bore 
the  complete  annihilation  of  his  hopes,  and  the  dis- 
covery of  the  usurpation  of  his  birthright  by  ano- 
ther, the  opinion  I  had  formed.  A  thousand  times 
he  assured  me,  that  sooner  would  he  submit  to  its 
eternal  deprivation,  than  let  any  selfish  considera- 
tion induce  him  to  risque  my  safety. 

'  This  mutual  explanation  too  forcibly  suggested 
the  propriety  of  his  immediate  departure  from 
Loxa;  to  permit  either  to  propose  his  longer  delay, 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  37 

(  Our  regret  at  parting  was  somewhat  alleviated 
by  a  mutual  promise  of  corresponding,  a  promise 
he  faithfully  adhered  to;  in  consequence  of  which, 
in  the  course  of  a  few  months,  I  had  the  satisfac- 
tion of  learning  he  had  formed  a  connexion  calcu- 
lated to  remove  all  unavailing  regrets. 

*  That  you  experienced  none,  1  had  soon  the  un- 
speakable happiness  of  being  convinced ;  your  calm 
and  unaltered  manner,  the  unembarrassed  air  with 
which  you  frankly  avowed  your  esteem  and  high 
opinion  of  his  merits,  assured  me,  beyond  a  doubt, 
that  the  passion  which  agitated  his  breast  was  as 
yet  a  stranger  to  yours. 

'  Power  attempted  not  to  dissemble  the  satisfac- 
tion his  departure  afforded  him ;  aware  of  his  mo- 
tive for  rejoicing  at  it,  I  felt  equal  pain  and  resent- 
ment at  the  circumstance.  After  the  discovery  I 
had  made,  to  allow  of  your  longer  continuance  un- 
der his  roof,  was  not  to  be  thought  of.  Accord- 
ingly, I  made  a  pretext  for  sending  you  to  a  convent. 
Unwilling  yet  awhile  to  remove  from  Loxa,  lest  of 
your  supposed  grandfather  requiring  to  see  you, 
more  especially  Jrom  not  knowing,  owing  to  his 
change  of  residence,  and  keeping  it  concealed  from 
me,  where  to  address  a  letter  to  him,  circumstances 
that  argued  a  degree  of  distrust  and  selfishness, 
that  permitted  me  clearly  to  see,  if  either  were  en- 
dangered, he  would  have  no  hesitation  in  deciding 
which  should  be  the  sacrifice. 

4  Power  did  not  submit  to  your  removal  with 
calmness,  but  the  efforts  he  evidently  made,  for  a 
time,  to  subdue  the  emotions  it  caused,  induced  a 
hope  of  his  determining  to  resist  the  passion  you 
had  inspired.  But  the  uncontrolled  latitude  he 
had  long  given  to  his  feelings  had  given  them  too 
complete  an  ascendancy  over  him,  to  allow  of  any 


38  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMb. 

resistance  to  their  imperious  sway  proving  availing. 
After  many  struggles,  from  hinting  what  he  felt,  he 
began  to  grow  more  explicit,  finding  I  either  did 
not,  or  would  not  comprehend  the  nature  of  the  al- 
lusions he  had  recourse  to,  for  the  purpose  of  saving 
himself  the  embarrassment  of  a  direct  declaration. 

'  When  i  found  I  could  no  longer  affect  igno- 
rance, i  had  recourse  to  remonstrances,  represent- 
ing to  him,  but  with  as  much  consideration  as  pos- 
sible for  his  feelings,  the  little  probability  there  was 
of  your  ever  being  induced  to  consider  as  a  lover  a 
person  whom  you  had  been  so  long  taught  to  re- 
gard in  the  light  of  a  paternal  relative.  But,  when 
passion  reigns,  how  powerless  is  the  voice  of  rea- 
son !  Maddened  by  my  opposition  to  his  wishes, 
he  at  length  avowed  his  determination,  if  I  perse- 
vered in  it,  of  taking  advantage  of  (he  confidence 
I  had  reposed  in  him,  to  compel  me  to  compliance. 

(  Good  God !  what  did  I  not  feel  at  that  moment, 
when  at  hearing  the  man  I  so  fondly  loved  avow 
himself  capable  of  an  act  of  such  cruel  atrocity  ! 
capable  of  betraying  what  even  villains  have  been 
known  to  hold  sacred — the  confidence  of  an  unsus- 
picious heart ! 

My  looks  alone,  however,  bore  testimony  to 
what  I  felt,  for  a  mingled  sensation  of  astonish- 
ment, indignation,  and  regret,  deprived  me  of  ut- 
terance. They  were  too  expressive,  however,  not 
to  penetrate  the  heart  of  Power,  not  yet  entirely 
lost  to  every  generous  feeling.  In  an  agony  of 
shame  and  compunction,  he  fell  upon  my  neck,  im- 
ploring me  to  forgive,  as  the  burst  of  irritated  pas- 
sion, what  had  escaped  him :  but  impossible,  or  at 
least  I  could  not  forget  it ;  and  accordingly  resolved 
on  immediately  withdrawing  from  his  roof,  con- 
vinced that  no  secure  alliance  is  to  be  placed  on 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  3Q 

him,  who,  from  being  the  slave  of  passion,  is  like~ 
ly  to  be  the  alternate  slave  of  vice  and  virtue ; 
who,  like  Alexander,  may,  in  a  moment  of  sud- 
den irritation,  do  what,  'tis  true,  he  may  ever 
after  regret,  but  without  the  power  of  atoning  for. 

*  The  precautions  necessary  to  adopt  in  depart- 
ing, rendered  it  absolutely  necessary  to  repose  a 
partial' confidence  in  you  ;  yet  most  unwilling  was 
I  to  agitate  your  gentle  mind,  by  acknowledging  I 
had  secrets  of  a  nature  to  put  me  in  the  power  of 
any  one.     But,  with  delight,  1  saw  this  acknow- 
ledgment had  no  effect  to  my  prejudice. 

*  My  departure  from  Spain,  however,  did  not 
free  me  from  apprehension;  from  my  knowledge 
of  Power's  disposition,  I  was  convinced  he  would 
follow ;  and,  in  order  to  avoid  being  traced,  saw  it 
would  be  necessary  to  live  in  retirement  for  some 
time,  more  especially,  as  from  having  appointed  a 
person  of  his  recommending  to  the  agency  of  my 
estate,  I  concluded  I  could  not,  with  any  degree 
of  safety,  apply  immediately  for  my  rents.     In 
this  emergency,  1  conceived  the  best  plan  would 
be,  to  repair  to  the  neighbourhood  of  Roscrea,  in 
order  that,  by  an  introduction  to  his  family,  you 
might  be  secure  of  a  proper  residence,  in  case  any 
thing  unfortunately  occurred  to  render  a  transient 
separation  necessary.     His  reception  fully  justi- 
fied the  confidence  1  had  reposed  in  his  regard. 
No  son  could  be  more  attentive,  no  brother  more 
affectionate ;  and  to  have  been  at  liberty  to  dis- 
close your  imagined  claim  upon  his  attention,  would 
have  been  at  once  a  source  of  delight  and  pride  to 
him.     But  the  happiness  imparted  by  his  society 
and  kind  attentions,  was  fated  to  be  of  short  dura- 
tion.    On  being  compelled  to  resign  you  to  his 
protection,  by  my  unexpected  meeting  with  Power. 


40  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

I  formed  the  idea  of  coming  here,  conceiving,  from 
the  alteration  that  time  must  have  effected  in  my 
appearance,  as  well  as  the  knowledge  of  my  having 
none  but  friends  within  the  walls,  that  I  should  here 
be  perfectly  secure,  notwithstanding  its  contiguity 
to  my  native  dwelling ;  indeed,  so  convinced  was 
I,  from  the  first,  of  this,  that  but  on  your  account, 
I  should  at  once  have  directed  my  steps  hither. 
My  wish  for  concealment  was  no  sooner  known, 
than  I  received  every  necessary  assurance  on  the 
subject.  Perfectly  confiding  in  these,  I  again  felt 
myself  at  ease ;  but  a  long  interval  of  tranquillity 
seems  not  destined  for  me.  As  I  was  retiring  to 
rest  one  night,  a  large  sealed  packet  on  the  table 
caught  my  attention ;  taking  it  up,  to  my  heighten- 
ed surprise,  1  perceived  it  addressed  to  me.  The 
emotions  excited  by  its  perusal  you  will  be  better 
able  to  form  an  idea  of,  when  acquainted  with  its 
contents  :'  as  he  spoke,  he  took  it  from  his  pocket- 
book,  and  began  as  follows. 


CHAP.  HI. 

c  Thoughts  cannot  form  themselves  in  words  so  horrid 
As  can  express  my  guilt.' 

'  THE  most  perfect  are  ever  the  most  lenient  ; 
with  the  horror,  therefore,  my  confession  must 
excite,  I  do  not  altogether  despair  of  some  degree 
of  commiseration  being  mingled. 

•  '  Who,  or  what  i  am,  matters  not,  or  rather  no 
effort  that  may  be  made  for  the  purpose  of  endea- 
vouring to  discover,  is  likely  to  succeed,  feelings 
for  others  having  led  me  to  adopt  every  necessary 
measure  for  concealment — a  concealment,  perhaps, 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  41 

1  should  not  deem  requisite,  could  the  heart  be 
read,  s*hce  then  man  would  see,  that  his  unrelent- 
ing vengeance  could  not  inflict  a  severer  punish- 
ment, than  allowing  the  continuance  of  a  being,  on 
which  guilt  has  entailed  intolerable  wretchedness. 

'  Oh  God !  could  death  be  deemed  a  punish- 
ment to  him,  o'er  whom  the  blessed  sun  rises, 
without  the  power  of  gladdening ;  on  whom  the 
darkness  of  night  descends  with  tenfold  horrors, 
from  the  blackness  of  his  own  thoughts ;  to  whom 
the  social  heart  of  friendship  can  no  more  impart  a 
cheering  glow,  nor  the  revolving  seasons  a  trans- 
port with  their  rich  varieties. 

'  But  to  be  brief,  know  then,  that  the  purpose 
of  this  address  is  to  disclose  to  you  a  secret  in 
which  you  are  concerned,  and  the  revealing  of 
which  is  essential  to  the  performance  of  an  act  of 
humanity  and  justice. 

*  With  a  dreadful  catastrophe,  that,  about 
eighteen  years  ago,  happened  in  the  Clanronel 
family,  you  must  doubtless  be  acquainted,  since, 
from  the  high  respectability  of  that  family,  it  was 
for  a  considerable  time  the  general  subject  of  con- 
versation. How  shall  1  proceed,  how  force  my- 
self to  tell  you,  that  1  was  the  author  of  that  ca- 
tastrophe !  that  mine  was  the  accursed  hand  that 
deprived  its  youthful  representative  of  a  lovely 
and  beloved  wife. 

'  In  an  hour,  for  ever  to  be  regretted,  I  met  with 
the  unprincipled  being  on  whom  he  had  first  be- 
stowed that  title  ;  but  though  soon  aware  of  her 
being  equally  unworthy  of  esteem  or  tenderness,  I 
knew  not  how  to  extricate  myself  from  her,  or 
rather  feared  making  an  effort  for  the  purpose,  lest, 
iVom  a  mot ive  of  revenge,  provoking  her  to  betray 
;i  secret  she  had  unhappily  become  possessed  of, 

VOL.  If.  E 


42  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

and  on  the  preservation  of  which  my  reputation 
depended. 

<  She  had  long  meditated  a  scheme  of  dreadful 
vengeance  against  Mr  Clanronel,  from  a  belief,  or 
rather  persuasion,  she  forced  herself  to  give  way 
to,  in  order  to  have  a  pretext  for  indulging  her 
rancorous  hatred  of  him,  of  his  having  connived 
at  her  misconduct,  in  order  to  obtain  an  opportu- 
nity of  breaking  the  tie  between  them  ;  and  at 
length  demanded  my  aid  for  the  furtherance  of  it — 
an  aid  I  knew  not  how  to  refuse,  from  the  dread 
already  mentioned. 

'  What  slaves  are  we  rendered  by  vice !  none 
but  the  virtuous  can  be  considered  truly  free,  for 
none  but  they  possess  that  firmness  which  is  re- 
quisite to  the  support  of  the  manly  character. 

'  On  the  mechanical  arrangement  of  her  diaboli- 
cal plan  L  shall  not  dwell ;  suffice  it  to  inform  you, 
that  having  contrived  to  get  Mr.  Clanronel  out  of 
the  way,  she  took  advantage  of  her  knowledge  of 
a  subterraneous  communication  between  a  grotto 
at  the  sea-side  and  the  chamber  of  Mrs.  Clanronel, 
to  gain  access  to  her  apartment,  in  the  dead  of 
night,  accompanied  by  me ;  and  from  whence,  fa- 
voured by  the  darkness  of  the  hour,  and  loneliness 
of  the  place,  we  succeeded  but  too  well  iu  bearing 
her  off  to  a  place  of  concealment,  previously  pre- 
pared. Nothing,  indeed,  necessary  to  prevent 
any  danger  of  disappointment  had  been  omitted. 
But  though  the  death  of  her  innocent  rival  was 
ultimately  intended  by  this  fiend  in  human  form, 
the  gratification  she  felt  it  would  be,  to  see  her 
languishing  under  the  tortures  of  her  situation, 
prevented  any  immediate  attempt  on  her  life  ;  ac- 
cordingly she  carefully  attended  her  in  the  hour 
Ihat  quickly  approached,  terror  hastening  the  birth 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  43 

of  a  lovely  infant.  Maternal  affection,  the  strong 
energies  it  imparts,  and  hope,  that  never  forsakes 
the  innocent  breast,  enabled  the  unhappy  Mrs. 
Clanronel  to  bear  up  against  the  horrors  that  as- 
sailed her.  Full  of  regret  and  compunction  for 
the  part  I  had  acted,  though  withheld,  by  a  selfish 
dread,  from  making  atonement  for  it,  I  strove,  by 
kindness  and  attention,  to  mitigate  these  horrors. 
Fearful  of  leaving  her  entirely  in  the  power  of  her 
tyrant,  I  seldom  ventured  to  absent  myself  for 
any  time  from  the  place  of  her  confinement ;  and 
in  consequence  of  this  painful  and  embarrassing 
restraint  upon  my  actions,  shortly  began  to  grow 
impatient  for  her  removal  to  the  continent,  where 
Sanders  assured  ine  she  had  provided  another  still 
more  eligible  for  her ;  but  my  remonstrances  on 
the  subject  were  unavailing;  and  I  at  length  be- 
gan to  fear  she  had  completely  deceived  me,  in 
allowing  me  to  imagine  it  v/as  her  intention  to  let. 
her  existence  be  prolonged.  With  the  brutal  ca- 
priciousness  of  insolence  and  cruelty,  she  some- 
times loaded  her  with  invectives,  accusing  her  of 
being  the  usurper  of  her  place  in  society,  and 
threatened  her  with  instant  death  for  her  offence  ; 
at  others,  affected  a  soothing  and  relenting  air,  but 
only  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  an  uninterrupted 
opportunity  of  detailing  the  artifice  she  had  had 
recourse  to,  for  the  purpose  of  prepossessing  Mr. 
Ganronel  with  a  belief  of  her  disappearance  being 
the  effect  of  a  criminal  attachment.  At  length, 
tired  of  being  confined  to  one  place,  and  of  the 
privacy,  or  rather  solitude,  in  which  apprehension 
occasioned  her  to  live,  she  began  to  speak  openly 
of  the  destruction  of  her  rival,  thus  confirming  tht 
fear  by  which  I  had  been  so  long  tormented. — 
With  horror  at  the  suggestion,  1  reminded  her  of 


44  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

ihe  promise  she  had  plighted,  ere  she  could  suo 
ceed  in  obtaining  my  assistance  towards  the  accom- 
plishment of  her  plan,  to  offer  no  personal  injury 
to  Mrs.  Clanronel ;  but  vain  were  arguments  and 
entreaties  ;  she  in  her  turn  recalled  to  my  recollec- 
tion the  one  I  had  given,  to  offer  no  opposition  to 
her  wishes,  or  betray  her  projects,  provided  she 
kept  inviolate  the  secret  on  which  my  honour  de- 
pended ;  assuring  me,  with  a  smile  of  demoniac 
inalice,  a  violation  of  the  compact  on  one  side, 
should  be  considered  a  release  from  it  at  the  other ; 
and  that  nothing  but  the  exquisite  gratification  de- 
rived from  witnessing  the  superlative  misery  of  her 
victim,  at  knowing  she  was  within  reach  of  her, 
friends,  yet  without  any  hope  of  obtaining  their  suc- 
cour, should  have  induced  her  to  spare  her  life  so 
long,  T  knew  not  Low  to  act ;  the  predicament  I 
felt  myself  in  was  dreadful ;  I  persisted  in  deter- 
mining to  prevent  the  atrocity  she  meditated,  yet 
felt  unable  to  ensure  the  contemplation  of  what 
mklit  accrue  from  the  circumstance.  While  try- 
ing to  temporize  with  her,  in  hopes  a  little  further 
time  for  reflect  ion  would  induce  her  of  her  own  accord 
to  relinquish  her  horrible  design,  Mrs.  Clanronel 
was  secretly  contriving  her  escape.  The  residence 
of  her  enemy  covered  the  entrance  to  a  series  of 
wild  coves,  extending  along  the  coast,  and  with  all 
the  intricacies  of  which  the  unprincipled  Sanders 
was  perfectly  acquainted,  owing  to  their  having 
been  long  used  as  a  place  of  concealment  by  a  set  of 
smugglers,  with  whom  her  father  had  been  connect- 
ed :  one  of  these  she  had  fitted  up  for  the  reception 
of  Mrs,  Clanronel.  Elemental  storms  had  consid- 
erably injured  it,  occasioning  various  fissures,  and 
loosening  the  stones  in  such  a  way  as  rendered  no 
great  exertion  necessary  to  detach  them  en- 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  45 

urely  from  the  rock.  Chance  discovered  this  to 
Mrs.  Clanronel,  or  more  probably,  the  narrowness 
with  which  she  doubtless  examined  her  prison, 
and  of  which  joyful  discovery,  as  may  naturally  be 
supposed,  she  lost  no  time  in  availing  herself;  but 
fearful  of  her  escape  being  impeded,  should  she 
take  her  child  wTith  her,  weak  and  ill  as  she  was 
from  long  suffering  and  confinement,  she  resolved 
on  leaving  it  behind.  Just  as  she  had  forced  her- 
self through  the  narrow  breach  she  had  succeeded 
in  making,  I  entered  the  cave,  for  the  purpose  of 
conducting  her  to  an  upper  apartment,  for  air.  For 
a  minute  I  became  transfixed  from  astonishment  at 
what  I  saw  ;  then  recollecting  that  if  1  suffered  her  to 
escape,  I  was  lost  for  ever,  from  the  discovery  that 
must  necessarily  ensue,  I  desperately  rushed  out 
to  impede  her  flight,  but  owing  to  my  being  compel- 
led to  reascend  to  the  house,  for  the  purpose  of 
pursuing  her,  she  had  so  considerably  got  the  start 
of  me,  as  to  render  me  almost  hopeless  of  overtak- 
ing her  in  time-  Urged  onward,  however,  by  feel- 
ings nearly  as  desperate  as  those  that  impelled  her, 
I  at  length  came  up  with  her,  just  as  she  had  gained 
accbss  to  an  unoccupied  part  of  the  house.  Of 
my  knowledge  of  this  1  immediately  availed  myself, 
to  try  and  force  her  into  the  subterraneous  passage 
already  mentioned,  but  with  piercing  screams  she 
resisted  my  efforts.  Approaching  sounds  on  a  sud- 
den convinced  me  these  were  heard,  and,  in  the 
madness  of  heightened  terror,  I  held  up  a  poniard* 
which,  hastening  to  pursue  her,  1  had  almost  uncon- 
sciously snatched  up ;  but  she  was  not  to  be  awed ; 
she  attempted  to  pass  me;  in  struggling  to  do  so, 
she  fell  against  me,  and  received  the  deadly  weapon 
in  her  breast.  For  an  instant  after,  I  stood  trans- 
fixed with  horror ;  then  hearing  voices  still  nearer, 
E  2 


46*  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

I  instinctively  fled,  and  hastily  retracing  my  way, 
roused  the  accursed  Sanders  from  the  couch  on 
which  she  was  slumbering,  unconscious  of  all  that 
had  recently  passed,  to  a  partial  participation  of 
my  terror.  At  once  exulting  and  dismayed,  she 
hastily  collected  whatever  valuables  were  portable, 
and  descended  with  me  to  the  caves,  whence  a  se- 
cret outlet  inspired  us  with  hopes  of  being  able  to 
effect  our  escape,  favoured  as  we  should  be  by  the 
darkness  of  the  hour,  for  it  was  now  night,  and  the  in- 
tricacies of  the  mountains.  In  our  way  through  the 
nearest  cave,  her  glaring  eyes  fell  upon  the  child 
of  our  hapless  victim,  wrapped  at  the  moment  in 
the  balmy  sleep  of  infancy  and  health,  on  the 
wretched  couch  which  its  miserable  mother  had  so 
often  bathed  with  tears  of  anguish  and  despair. 
Suddenly  darting  towards  it, '  thou  shalt  never  bless 
the  eyes  of  thy  father/  she  exclaimed  ;  '  no,  no/ 
snatching  it'  from  its  slumber,  *  my  revenge  would 
be  incomplete,  did  I  permit  him  to  recover  thee.' 
Guided  by  the  light  of  a  torch  learned,  she  hurried  on, 
cruelly  stifling  with  her  hand  the  cries  of  the  affright- 
ed babe,  until  we  came  to  a  place  that  required  great- 
er caution  in  proceeding,  a  cavern,  that  sinking  in 
fhe  centre  to  a  deep  abyss,  at  the  bottom  of  which 
the  gurgling  sound  of  water  was  heard,  left  but  a  nar- 
row ledge  at  either  side  for  the  feet :  suddenly 
pausing, ( Here/  cried  this  monster,  addressing  her- 
self to  her  little  captive,  'here  shall  your  cries 
cease !  here  shall  you  be  hurled,  to  rejoin  your 
hated  mother!  yes,  detested  urchin,  whatever 
may  be  my  fate,  1  shall  still  exult  to  think  the  heart 
of  your  father  can  never  be  gladdened  by  you  !' 
As  she  spoke,. she  lifted  up  the  child,  and  would 
certainly  have  executed  her  horrid  threat,  but  for 
my  interposition  :  *  Fiend  P  I  exclaimed,  as  I  caught 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    C0LUM4.  47 

it  to  my  bosom,  and  felt  its  little  arms  entwining 
round  my  neck,  *  have  you  indeed  entered  into  a 
compact  with  the  powers  of  darkness,  that  you 
eould  meditate  such  a  deed  f  She  attempted  to 
tear  it  from  me,  but  pressing  forward,  as  fast  as  a 
sense  of  extreme  danger  would  allow,  I  evaded  her 
effort  for  the  purpose,  and  on  reaching  the  outlet, 
darted  from  her  ;  but  whither  to  betake  myself  1 
knew  not,  apprehensive  as  I  was  of  being  hemmed 
in  on  every  side,  or  rather  fearful  of  her  fury,  at 
being  deprived  of  the  full  gratification  of  her  prey, 
leading  her  to  betray  me ;  yet  not  this  alarming 
apprehension  could  induce  me  for  a  moment  to  re- 
gret what  I  had  done ;  no,  though  stained  at  the 
moment  with  the  blood  of  its  mother,  1  felt  I  could 
"infinitely  sooner  allow  my  own  to  be  shed,  than 
give  up  the  babe  to  destruction.  Mechanically  I 
moved  forward,  but  starting  and  shrinking  at  every 
sound,  now  rejoicing  at  the  darkness  of  the  hour, 
and  now  dreading  the  gloom  would  prove  my  de- 
struction :  Oh  !  even  now  I  relapse  into  terror 
when  I  think  of  the  horrors  of  that  night — that 
night  in  which  I  felt  as  if  all  hell  were  in  my  heart, 
and  1  in  hell — abandoned  of  God,  and  beset  by  man. 
After  proceeding  some  way,  the  consequences  that 
could  scarcely  fail  of  accruing  from  suffering  my- 
self to  be  surprised  by  daylight  in  that  state  became 
too  obvious  not  to  induce  me  to  determine  on  imme- 
diately bending  my  steps  towards  the  metropolis, 
where  alone  i  could  hope  for  safety ;  but  I  had  so 
completely  lost  myself  amidst  the  intricacies  of 
the  mountains,  that  without  a  direction,  1  feared 
there  was  but  little  probability  of  being  able  to  re- 
gain the  road  to  it ;  but  in  vain  I  looked  for  some 
place  to  make  the  necessary  inquiry  at ;  and  at 
length  abandoning  myself  to  despair,  was  almost  on 


48  MONASTERY    OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

the  point  of  throwing  myself  on  the  ground,  and 
without  a  further  struggle,  submitting  to  a  fate  that 
seemed  at  the  moment  inevitable,  when  a  faint  ray 
glimmered  athwart  the  wild  and  savage  path  I  wa* 
pursuing.  Perceiving  no  habitation,  1  felt  surpris- 
ed, and  perhaps  a  little  startled ;  nevertheless, 
eagerly  approaching  the  spot  from  whence  it  issued, 
1  beheld  a  cabin,  but  which,  but  for  this  circum- 
stance, I  should  certainly  have  overlooked,  so  com- 
pletely did  it  appear  '  a  thing  of  nature/  so  com- 
pletely a  part  of  the  broken  and  turf-covered  bank, 
in  which  it  was  sunk.  Looking  through  the  hole 
that  served  for  a  window,  1  saw  an  elderly  woman, 
busied  in  cooking  something  on  a  miserable  fire. 
Conceiving  1  might  here  procure  the  direction  1  re- 
quired, as  well  as  safely  ask  for  it,  1  tapped  at  the 
door,  and  on  replying,  in  answer  to  the  interroga- 
tion that  was  immediately  put  to  me,  that  I  was  a 
benighted  traveller,  readily  gained  admittance. 
Having  obtained  the  information  I  wanted,  1  was 
departing,  when  the  cries  of  the  child  reminding 
me  of  the  necessity  of  procuring  it  food,  I  begged 
to  know  if  she  could  furnish  me  with  a  little  bread 
and  milk;  she  replied  in  the  negative  but  added, 
if  I  would  remain  a  little  longer,  she  would  give  me  a 
share,  with  a  hearty  welcome,  of  the  potatoes  she  was 
then  cooking  for  supper.  I  accepted  her  offer,  and 
accordingly  took  a  seat  on  the  three-legged  sfool  she 
handed  me  by  the  fire  :  here  I  soon  found  her  at- 
tention alternately  engaged  by  the  potatoes  and 
child,  at  which  suddenly  bursting  into  tears,  she 
declared  she  could  not  help  looking,  it  reminded  her 
so  much  of  one  she  had  just  lost. 

4  Feeling  myself  under  a  necessity  of  saying 
something,  I  languidly  asked,  was  it  her  only  one  ?3 

'  It  was  not  hers;  she  replied,  which,  strange  as 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLIWB.  49 

it  might  seem,  made  her  sorrow  the  greater,  but  a 
child  entrusted  to  her  care,  whose  death  she  feared 
would  be  her  ruin,  the  means  of  depriving  her  of 
the  best  friend  she  had  in  the  world. 

*  That  would  be  cruel  indeed,'  I  saitr,  '  that  she 
should  suffer  for  what  she  could  not  prevent/ 

f  She  looked  wistfully  at  me  for  a  moment  on 
this  observation,  then  wringing  her  hands,  said,  if 
it  was  as  I  thought,  she  should  have  no  fear  of  the 
kind,  but,  God  forgive  her,  it  was  far  otherwise. 

'  Notwithstanding  the  state  of  mind  1  was  in,  her 
words  excited  a  curiosity  I  could  not  resist,  and 
with  something  of  sternness,  I  demanded  had  she 
then  to  accuse  herself  of  any  crime  ? 

'  Crime  !'  she  repeated,  with  a  curious  expression 
of  countenance;  '  no,  not  that  she  knew  of;  but 
then  a  body  might  be  to  blame/  she  observed, 
'  without  being  absolutely  wicked  :'  but  not  to  ex- 
haust your  patience,  she  soon  revealed  all  she  had 
to  communicate.  A  few  months  back,  a  gentle- 
man, on  whose  estate  she  and  her  husband  resided, 
had  committed  a  little  girl  to  her  care,  with  a  charge 
of  secresy  on  the  subject,  and  promise  of  amply 
recompensing  her,  if  she  proved  careful  of  her 
charge.  This  promise,  she  said,  had  made  her 
watch  over  it  as  if  on  its  life  hers  also  depended, 
never  letting  it  out  of  her  sight  a  moment,  till  un- 
luckily, she  came  to  visit  a  dying  relative  in  this 
part  of  the  kingdom,  the  owner  of  the  cabin  in 
which  she  then  was,  on  the  evening  of  whose  fu- 
neral she  had  been  prevailed  on  to  leave  it  in  care 
of  some  grown-up  children  belonging  to  one  in  the 
neighbourhood,  who,  unmindful  of  the  promise  of 
watching  over  it,  had  suffered  it  to  creep  to  1  IIP 
edge  of  a  precipice,  whence  falling,  it  was  dashed 
to  pieces. 


50  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

'  Scarce  had  1  heard  her  to  an  end,  ere,  owing 
to  a  thought  suggested  by  these  particulars,  I 
eagerly  demanded  whether  its  death  was  as  yet 
known  in  the  place  she  had  coine  from ;  she  repli- 
ed in  the  negative,  adding,  she  knew  not,  after  what 
had  happened,  how  to  return  thither,  so  great  was 
her  dread  of  facing  her  husband.  1  then  proceed- 
ed to  ask,  was  the  likeness  between  it  and  the  child 
with  me  as  great  as  she  at  first  seemed  to  think  P  As- 
suring me  it  was,  I  had  no  longer  any  hesitation  in 
deciding  how  to  act — no  longer  any  hesitation  in 
declaring  my  readiness  to  relinquish  mine,  as  I 
called  it,  for  the  purpose  of  letting  it  pass  for  the 
one  she  lamented;  adding,  she  would  cease  to 
wonder  at  this  declaration,  1  was  certain,  or  doubt 
my  being  serious,  when  I  informed  her,  I  was  an 
unhappy  man,  flying  from  merciless  creditors,  and 
at  such  an  utter  loss  at  the  moment,  from  the  situa- 
tion I  was  in,  to  know  what  to  do  with  the  child,  as 
almost  to  have  been  tempted  to  wish  its  death. 
Implicitly  believing  what  1  said,  and  ready  almost 
to  acquiesce  in  any  measure  likely  to  relieve  her 
from  the  dread  she  was  in,  she  did  not  long  delib- 
erate about  embracing  my  proposal :  as  soon  as 
the  astonishment  it  had  excited  had  a  little  subsid- 
ed, she  fell  on  her  knees,  and,  in  an  ecstacy  of  gra- 
titude, vowed  to  prove  herself  worthy  of  the  good- 
ness of  Heaven,  in  freeing  her  from  the  trouble  she 
was  in,  by  attention  to  the  child. 

'  Nothing,  however,  could  have  induced  me  to 
consign  it  to  any  being  but  its  natural  protector, 
but  for  my  conviction  of  drawing  upon  my  head 
the  unrelenting  vengeance  of  the  wretched  crea- 
ture in  whose  power  1  had  so  completely  placed 
myself,  were  1  to  obey  the  dictates  of  feeling. — 
Terrible  was  the  aggravation  of  misery  acting  ron- 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  51 

trary  to  it  occasioned ;  terrible  the  thought  of  being 
compelled  to  resist  the  impulse  that  would  have  led 
to  some  alleviation  of  the  wretchedness  1  had  caus- 
ed. 

'  On  reaching  the  retreat  to  which  it  had  been, 
previously  settled  we  should  go,  I  found  Sanders 
already  there.  Her  fury  at  first  seeing  me  was 
ungovernable,  from  an  apprehension  of  my  having 
contrived  to  get  the  child  conveyed  to  its  parent ; 
my  solemn  assurances  to  the  contrary,  assurances 
of  having  been  at  length  induced,  by  a  dread  of  its 
being  the  means  of  betraying  me,  to  destroy  it, 
could  scarcely  qalm  her  ;  she  continued  to  suspect, 
and  repeat  her  determination  of  giving  me  up  to 
the  punishment  1  had  merited,  if  she  found  1  had 
deceived  her. 

14  In  this  determination,  her  manner  would  not 
permit  me  to  doubt  her  being  sincere ;  consequent- 
ly, 1  could  not  avoid  rejoicing  1  had  resisted  the 
impulse  of  my  heart.  My  name  not  being  known 
to  Mrs.  Clanronel,  the  idea  of  any  information  she 
might  have  given  could  not  of  course  so  materially 
alarm  me  as  it  did  her.  Confident  her  safety  must 
be  endangered  by  a  longer  continuance  in  the  king- 
dom, she  had  no  hesitation  in  resolving  to  quit  it ; 
and  accordingly  relieved  me  from  the  horror  of 
her  immediate  presence  by  repairing  to  the  conti- 
nent. 

'  Chancing  soon  after  to  be  in  the  neighbour- 
hood to  which  the  child  was  conveyed  I  could  not 
resist  my  anxiety  to  inquire  concerning  her,  aiid  in 
consequence  had  the  happiness  of  learning  she  was 
resigned  to  the  care  of  her  destined  protector — 
yes,  happiness,  1  repeat,  for  the  estimable  charac- 
ter of  bt  Ruth  had  previously  been  known  to  me, 
and  was  equally  admired  and  revered  : — start  not 


52  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

at  this  disclosure,  neither  indulge  in  conjectures  OH 
the  subject;  from  the  precautions  I  have  taken, 
they  can  answer  no  other  end  than  that  of  bewild- 
ering you. 

*  But  still  I  continued  the  most  wretched  of  man- 
kind, unable  to  enjoy  the  blessings  I  possessed, 
from  my  torturing  consciousness  of  not  deserving 
them.  True,  1  could  not  reproach  myself  with 
being  the  intentional  cause  of  Mrs.  Clanronel's 
death,  but  how  could  I  excuse  myself  of  the  part  I 
had  previously  acted  towards  her  ?  But  this  was 
not  the  sole  occasion  of  my  remorse ;  oh  no ;  I 
writhed  beneath  the  reflection  of  other  'undivulg- 
ed  crimes,  unwhipt  of  justice  :'  but  1  hasten  to  a 
conclusion.  A  few  weeks  ago,  1  received  intelli- 
gence of  the  death  of  Sanders,  that  persecuting 
fiend,  who  had  so  long  triumphed  in  my  compelled 
submission  to  her  wishes;  and  immediately  after 
decided  on  making  this  confession,  as  the  only 
atonement  in  my  power  for  the  injuries  I  had  com- 
mitted. To  this  I  was  still  further  impelled,  by  a 
circumstance  that  happened  about  the  time, 
but  one  which  I  shall  not  explain,  lest  you  should 
indeed  imagine  me  bereft  of  reason ;  yet,  perhaps, 
it  might  have  been  an  illusion  of  the  brain;  how 
horrid,  how  fearful,  are  the  spectres  conjured  up 
by  a  guilty  conscience!  how  often  has  guilt,  mad- 
dened by  its  terrors,  been  compelled  to  deliver  it- 
self up  to  the  chastisement  of  retributive  justice! 
The  unexpected  discovery  of  your  residence  facili- 
tated my  wishes ;  but  let  not  any  idea  of  that  dis- 
covery being  owing  to  treachery  alarm,  or  induce 
you  to  seek  another  retreat;  within  the  walls  of 
St.  Columb,  rely  on  it  you  are  safe. 

'  Mr.  Clanronel,  I  should  conceive,  may  easily 
be  satisfied  of  the  identity  of  his  daughter.  Thr 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  53 

woman  who  received  her  from  me  is  still,  as  proba- 
bly you  know,  living  on  your  estate,  and  her  testi- 
mony of  course  will  not  be  wanting  to  corroborate 
my  statement:  a  very  remarkable  ring,  belonging 
to  Mrs.  Clanronel,  and  which,  at  the  time  of  my 
parting  with  the  child,  was  suspended  by  a  ribbon 
from  her  neck,  may  also,  if  preserved,  be  another 
evidence  in  support  of  it.  Amongst  other  particu- 
lars, I  must  not  forget  to  mention  that  her  name  is 
Clora;  on  resigning  her  to  the  woman,  1  gave  her 
instructions  on  the  subject,  which  she  punctually 
obeyed. 

'  Every  thing  is  already  prepared  for  my  depar- 
ture to  St.  Columb's,  in  order  that,  with  my  own 
hand,  I  may  deposit  this  where  1  shall  be  assured  of 
its  reaching  yours ;  and  oh !  would  that  the  mo- 
ment after,  1  could  deposit  in  the  silent  bosom  of 
the  earth  this  harassed  frame !  yet,  wretch  as  I 
am,  ought  I  not  to  bear  my  miseries  without  repin- 
ing ?  ought  1  not  to  bend  in  gratitude  to  that  merci- 
ful Being,  who,  by  protracting  my  life,  has  given 
me  si  ill  greater  time  for  repentance?  But  lam 
impatient  to  be  gone.  Farewell,  St.  Ruth,  noblest 
and  best  of  men;  thou,  in  whose  generous  breast 
compassion  never  can  be  extinguished ;  with  whose 
detestation  of  the  sinner,  commiseration  for  the 
penitent  will  ever  be  mingled — Farewell/ 


VOL.  II. 


54  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 


CHAP.    IV. 


Oh,  ray  more  than  father ! 
Let  me  not  live,  but  at  thy  very  name, 
My  eager  heart  springs  up,  and  leaps  with  joy. 
When  I  forget  the  vast  debt  I  owethee — 
Forget !  but  'tis  impossible ;  then  let  me 
Forget  the  use  and  privilege  of  reason; 
Be  driven  from  the  commerce  of  mankind, 
To  wander  in  the  desert  'mong  the  brutes; 
To  bear  the  various  fury  of  the  seasons, 
The  night's  unwholesome  dew,  and  noonday's  heat ; 
To  be  the  scorn  of  earth,  and  curse  of  Heaven. 

ROWE. 

'  I  AM  then  the  daughter  of  Clanronel  ?'  said  An- 
geline,  as  St  Ruth  folded  up  the  narrative  he  had 
been  reading  to  her — '  Good  Heavens  !  how  as- 
tonishing is  this  discovery,  but  how  tenderly,  how 
cautiously,  have  I  been  prepared  for  it !  indeed,  I 
feel  else,  that  I  should  have  been  completely  over- 
come by  it :  but  though  another  may  perhaps  claim 
and  receive  me,  to  him  whom  I  have  so  long  known 
as  a  parent  must  my  heart  ever  fondly  turn.' 

'  And  believe  me,  my  dearest  girl,  said  St.  Ruth, 
tenderly  embracing  her,  '  most  unwillingly  should 
I  resign  my  imagined  claims  upon  you,  was  I  not 
aware  that  he  to  whom  nature  has  given  real  ones, 
is  every  way  worthy  of  such  a  daughter  :  with  him 
vou'll  enjoy  those  advantages,  that  certain  place  in 
society,  that  with  me  could  not  have  been  the  case, 
from  the  mystery  in  which  your  birth  must  have 
appeared  enveloped.  Selfish  considerations,  how- 
ever, 1  am  aware  are  not  those  that  will  soonest  re- 
concile you  to  our  separation ;  but  when  I  remind 
you,  that  no  great  distance  will  separate  us,  and 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  55 

the  constant  opportunities  we  shall  have  for  corres- 
ponding, 1  flatter  myself  you  will  not  give  way  to 
any  feeling  that  may  alloy  your  happiness/ 
Y  '  Since  I  am  no  longer  to  consider  St.  Ruth  as 
my  father,  I  tfm.  indeed  grateful  that  Cianronel  is 
the  parent  to  whom  I  am  to  be  resigned,  so  great  is 
the  esteem  and  sympathy  his  virtues  and  afflictions 
have  excited ;  but,  good  God !  when  shall  I  cease 
to  wonder  on  what  has  happened?  when,  without 
shuddering  sensations,  on  having  actually  been  the 
inmate  of  the  chamber  where  my  unfortunate  mo- 
ther met  with  so  terrible  a  death  f 

'  1  shall  presently  inquire  into  all  that  has  occur- 
red since  our  separation/  returned  St  Ruth;  '  in 
the  meanwhile,  to  explain  to  you  the  further  par- 
ticulars you  have  to  learn,  the  astonishment  excit- 
ed by  the  confession  you  have  just  heard  had  no 
sooner  a  little  subsided,  than  1  hastened  to  make 
the  inquiries  necessary  for  ascertaining  its  truth. 
These  proved  completely  satisfactory,  and,  in  con- 
sequence, 1  lost  no  time  in  writing  to  Mr.  Clanro- 
nel  on  the  subject, but  with  a  determination  of  not 
being  explicit  with  you  on  it,  till  I  had  learnt  the 
result  of  my  communication  to  him.  Relative  to 
this  I  was  not  long  kept  in  suspense ;  his  steward 
was  instantly  dispatched  for  the  purpose  of  inves- 
tigating the  affair,  being  himself  unequal  to  a  per- 
sonal effort  for  it,  owing  to  the  effect  of  sudden  joy 
upon  his  long-depressed  spirits. 

'As  1  surmised,  he  would  not  allow  himself  to 
doubt  the  truth  of  what  he  felt  it  such  extacy  to 
believe  ;  yet,  that  he  might  not  be  accused  of  cre- 
dulity, he  commissioned  the  steward,  who  from  his 
keenness  and  penetration  was  well  calculated  for 
the  task,  to  make^stich  inquiries  as  should  preclude 
all  danger  of  imposition. 


56  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

'.  Thoroughly  satisfied,  from  the  strictness  with 
which  these  orders  were  obeyed,  that  nothing  of 
(he  kind  was  attempted,  he  returned  a  few  days 
ago  to  England,  so  that  in  the  course  of  a  few  more, 
1  expect  a  summons  for  you/ 

'  And  have  you  no  suspicion/  demanded  Ange- 
line, '  of  the  person  from  whom  the  packet  has  been 
received  r' 

'  None ;  and  aware  that  to  discover  him  would 
place  me  in  an  embarrassing  predicament,  1  have 
refrained  from  any  effort  for  the  purpose :  it  occurs 
to  me,  his  obtaining  an  opportunity  of  secretly  lay- 
ing it  before  me,  was  owing  to  one  of  the  reverend 
Inmates  of  St.  Col umb  being  the  repository  of  his 
i earful  secret ;  of  the  unreservedness  and  sacred- 
ness  of  confession,  you  have  heard  too  much  to  be 
able,  1  dare  say,  to  deem  the  idea  improbable/ 

'  Certainly ;  unhappy  man,  as  he  himself  ob- 
serves, prolonged  existence  must,  to  a  mind  tor- 
Uired  with  feelings  like  his,  be  the  heaviest  punish- 
ment that  could  possibly  be  inflicted/ 

1  For  my  long  estrangement  from  my  native 
country/  resumed  St.  Ruth,  '-1  accounted  to  your 
father/ — how  strange  to  the  ear  of  Angeline  did 
the  sound  of  that  title,  bestowed  by  him  on  another, 
seem ! — '  by  hinting  at  an  unhappy  attachment, 
and  mentioning  my  supposing  you  the  orphan  child 
of  a  very  dear  and  particular  friend,  whom  1  had 
adopted.  An  ingenuous  nature  hates  any  thing  of 
mystery,  especially  with  the  generous  and  estima- 
ble ;  but  notwithstanding  innumerable  considera- 
tions preclude  the  possibility  of  my  being  more 
candid  with  him  than  I  have  already  been,  the  ring 
alluded  to  in  the  confession  I  have,  perhaps  fortu- 
nately, preserved ;  conceiving  it  belonged  to  her 
of  whom  the  slightest  memorial  was  precious,  I 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  57 

carefully  treasured  it  as  a  sacred  relique,  and  have 
now  brought  it  to  restore  it  to  you  its  rightful  own- 
er :' — as  he  spoke,  he  produced  it,  and  attempted 
to  take  the  hand  that  lay  next  him,  for  the  purpose 
of  putting  it  on.  Instinctively,  however,  Ange- 
line  drew  back,  seized  with  unspeakable  dismay  at 
the  idea  of  the  discovery  that  allowing  him  to  take 
it  must  occasion,  for  she  had  not  thought  of  taking 
off  her  wedding  ring.  Believing  it  impossible  to 
extricate  herself  from  this  dilemma,  apprehension 
overpowered  her,  her  very  lips  turned  white,  and 
a  dimness  spread  itself  before  her  sight. 

'  Good  Heaven  !  what  is  the  matter  f  said  St. 
Ruth,  suddenly  raising  his  eyes  to  her  face,  alarm- 
ed by  the  cold  damp  feel  of  her  hand. 

Angeline  attempted  to  reply,  but  her  voice  was 
not  articulate,  and  he  hastened  to  procure  her  a 
glass  of  water.  She  instantly  availed  herself  of 
the  opportunity  this  afforded  of  secreting  what  she 
wished  to  conceal,  and  presently  after  was  suffi- 
ciently recovered  to  receive  the  tendered  ring 
from  him. 

The  landlady  now  made  her  appearance  with 
the  tea  equipage,  the  evening  being  by  this  time- 
pretty  far  advanced.  Necessarily  compelled  for 
some  time  to  converse  on  indifferent  subjects,  An- 
geline became  so  still  more  composed,  that  St. 
Ruth  had  no  hesitation,  on  their  being  again  left 
alone,  to  inquire,  as  he  had  given  her  to  understand 
was  his  intention,  into  all  that  had  occurred  since 
their  parting. 

Angeline  had  too  much  to  conceal  to  be  able  to 
reply  to  this  inquiry  without  hesitation.  Devoid, 
however,  of  all  suspicion  of  this  being  the  case, 
St.  Ruth  seemed  not  to  notice  her  imperfect  state- 
ment. Not  even  to  him  could  she  bring  herself 
F  2 


58  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLEMB. 

to  disclose  the  degrading  suspicions  of  lady  Rosa- 
mond ;  she  merely,  therefore,  assigned  as  a  reason 
for  not  applying  to  him  on  the  subject  of  her  jour- 
ney, as  she  had  been  instructed,  an  unwillingness 
to  put  him  to  any  further  trouble  on  her  account. 
On  being  closely  questioned,  however,  by  St.  Ruth, 
as  to  her  motive  for  repairing  to  Greymount,  in- 
stead of  returning  to  liixlip,  on  being  compelled 
by  the  impropriety  of  Mrs.  Lennard's  conduct  to 
quit  her,  she  was  compelled  to  acknowledge,  lady 
Rosamond's  conduct,  while  beneath  her  roof,  was 
not  altogether  such  as  to  allow  her  to  think  of  a 
thing  of  the  kind. 

*  Indeed !'  said  St.  Ruth,  apparently  equally 
surprised  arid  hurt  by  this  acknowledgment,  '  on 
Roscrea's  account  I  am  concerned  to  hear  this, 
for  it  must  wound  him  to  the  soul  to  find  he  is  not 
united  to  a  being  of  equal  liberality  with  himself, 
and  to  this  must  surely  be  owing  the  conduct  you 
have  hinted  at.  Strange,  that  real  amiableness 
should  on  some  minds  have  a  very  different  effect 
to  what  it  'ought ;  but  though  you  cannot  hope  to 
escape  envy,  since,  as  some  poet  has  observed,  l  it 
still  follows  merit  as  its  shade/  yet,  may  it  never 
again  have  the  power  of  inflicting  a  moment's  pain 
on  you,  for  to  its  baneful  influence  must  I  impute 
lady  Rosamond's  want  of  kindness.  With  you, 
may  that  trial,  that  kind  of  ordeal  of  their  patience 
and  fortitude,  which,  at  some  period  or  other,  al- 
most every  one  is  destined  to  undergo,  be  already 
past.  Though  you  have  not  had  to  complain  of  ab- 
hite  sorrow,  yet,  through  various  circumstances, 
you  have  met  with  sufficient  to  "deeply  affect,  and 
impress  your  mind  with  a  conviction  of  the  che- 
quered lot  of  man  :  may  the  coming  day  be  bright 
*nd  tranquil,  still  retaining  all  that  amiable  simpli- 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  69 

city  of  character,  which  has  hitherto  distinguished 
you !  may  you  pass  from  the  arms  of  a  fond  indul- 
gent parent  to  those  of  a  husband,  equally  capable 
of  appreciating  your  worth,  and  requiting  your 
tenderness !  oh !  what  must  the  triumph  of  your 
father  be,  in  having  such  a  daughter  to  bestow ! 
oh !  what  the  transport  of  the  lover  who  receives 
such  a  gift !' 

Angeline  was  unable  to  look  up,  or  reply,  so 
much  was  she  affected  by  the  tenderness  of  his 
wishes,  the  reflection  he  revived,  of  having  already 
disposed  of  herself — of  having  already  deprived  the 
amiable,  the  interesting,  the  long-sorrowing  parent,, 
to  whom  she  was  about  being  resigned,  of  more 
than  a  nominal  right  over  her.  Unable,  from  her 
distressing  consciousness,  to  bear  his  looks  for  a 
moment,  involuntarily,  in  order  to  avoid  them,  she 
bent  her  crimsoning  face  upon  his  hand.  Every 
feeling  revolted  from  the  idea  of  letting  him  know 
how  she  had  acted,  not  merely  because  she  was 
bound  to  silence  on  the  subject,  but  because  the 
more  she  reflected  on  it,  the  more  she  was  per- 
suaded it  merited  condemnation. 

*  My  dear  girl/  said  St.  Ruth,  mistaking  a  little 
the  cause  of  her  too  evident  emotion,  '  these  sen- 
sitive feelings  of  yours  are  not  those  that  are  best 
calculated  for  steering  you  with  calmness  through 
the  varying  scenes  of  life.' 

'  Or  rather/  returned  Angeline,  half  looking  up, 
and  forcing  a  languid  smile,  '  to  allow  them  to  guide 
me,  would  be  to  ensure  unhappiness.' 

*  True/  assented  her  companion,  with  a  corres- 
ponding smile,  *  to^yield  unresistingly  to  them  is 
not  the  way  to  be  happy.     Their  keenness  gives 
poignancy  to  happiness,  '  for  sensibility  is  indeed 
the  source  of  all  that  is  precious  in  our  joys,  or 


'00  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

\ 

costly  in  our  sorrows ;  but  their  violence  destroys 
it.'  But  to  return  to  the  point  from  which  we  have 
digressed  :  my  conviction  of  the  envy  that  abounds 
in  the  world,  and  the  dangers  to  which  a  lovely 
young  woman,  not  immediately  under  the  protec- 
tion of  any  relative,  is  exposed,  heightens  my  joy 
at  the  recent  discovery.  Beyond  the  reach  of 
these  you'll  soon  be  placed,  not>  it  is  true,  without 
being  exposed  to  others — those  attendant  on  flat- 
tery, and  the  general  homage  paid  to  fortune  ;  but 
dangers  from  which  I  fear  no  evil  result  to  you ; 
no,  1  feel  firmly  persuaded,  from  my  knowledge  of 
your  disposition,  that  no  adventitious  circumstance, 
no  sudden  elevation,  will  have  power  to  warp  you 
from  the  simplicity,  the  sweetness,  that  have 
hitherto  distinguished  you ;  that  still,  as  hereto- 
fore, you'll  be  the  friend  of  modest  merit,  the 
almoner  of  pity,  the  reliever  of  distress ;  she  to 
whom  the  bursting  heart  of  sorrow  may,  in  full 
confidence  of  sympathy  and  aid,  freely  disclose 
its  woes.  Oh  !  happy  they,  who,  despite  of  temp- 
tation, continue  to  retain  their  native  feeling  and 
integrity- — happy,  even  though  the'  scene  should 
change,  the  brightness  of  the  horizon  vanish;  for 
the  heart  in  which  dwells  the  peace  that  virtue 
sjves,  cannot  be  utterly  destitute  of  comfort.' 

'  Oh !  to  you,  to  you  am  1  indebted  for  what  1 
am/  cried  the  greatly-affected  Angeline,  dissolv- 
ing into  tears ;  '  1  am  the  creature  of  your  forming, 
from  the  cruel  circumstances  of  my  early  fate ; 
but  for  your  fostering  care,  I  might  at  this  moment 
have  been  a  wild  vagrant  on  the  face  of  the  earth, 
untaught,  unfriended,  a  source  of  misery  to  others 
and  myself.' 

'  Education  can  certainly  effect  much,'  returned 
St.  Ruth,,  affectionately  kissing  her  tear-dewed 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUiMB.  6' I 

cheek,  '  almost  wonders,  indeed ;  but  still,  except 
nature  has  given  a  certain  degree  of  richness  to 
the  soil,  the  hand  of  culture  can  seldom  succeed 
in  producing  altogether  what  may  be  wished  ;  as 
Shakspeare's  old  countess  says  of  her  el  eve  He- 
lena— <  disposition  you  inherit,  which  makes  fair 
gifts  fairer/ 

The  pleasure  of  conversing  was  too  great  to  al- 
low of  an  early  separation  ;  but  at  length,  the  clock 
that  licked  in  the  parlour  striking  the  ghostly  hour 
ef  midnight,  reminded  St.  Ruth  of  the  expediency 
of  letting  his  fair  companion  retire  to  repose.  As 
he  bade  her  farewell,  he  promised  to  be  with  her 
by  an  early  hour  the  next  morning ;  but  he  did  not 
leave  her  in  the  happy  state  of  mind  he  had  hoped 
and  imagined. 

The  habits  of  ingenuousness  in  which  she  had 
been  brought  up,  made  her  feel  her  departure  from 
sincerity  as  a  crime — a  feeling  she  could  not  expe- 
rience without  agitation  and  dejection ;  yet  she 
tried  to  hope  all  would  yet  end  well ;  that  Villiers, 
as  he  had  led  her  to  believe,  would  speedily  be  at 
liberty  to  publicly  solicit  her  hand  ;  and  that  in  the 
approbation  she  could  not  doubt  his  meeting  from 
her  friends,  she  should  feel  her  conduct,  with  regard 
to  him,  excused.  But  the  weight  upon  her  spirits 
was  not  easily  to  be  shaken  off;  she  hastened  to 
bed,  but  without  being  able  to  enjoy  the  repose  she 
needed.  Tormenting  visions  haunted  her  imagi- 
nation through  the  night,  banishing  peaceful  slum- 
bers, and  rendering  her  rejeiced,  when  she  saw 
day-light  dawning. 

The  cheerful  aspect  of  the  parlour,  with  the  sun 
shining  bright  upon  it,  and  decorated  with  a  pro- 
fusion of  autumnal  flowers,  had  a  happy  effect  on 
Jier  mind.  The  Sure,  glittering  in  the  dancing 


62  MONASTERY  OF   ST.  COLUMB. 

beams,  and  scattered  over  with  country  boats  and 
fishing-smacks,  contributed  not  a  little  to  heighten 
this :  as  delighted  she  gazed  upon  the  dazzling 
scene,  the  following  lines  on  morning  recurred  to 
her  recollection : 

*  Parent  of  day,  whose  beauteous  beams  of  light 

Spring  from  the  darksome  womb  of  night, 

And,  midst  their  native  horrors,  shew 
Like  gems  adorning  of  the  negro's  brow  ; 

Not  heav'n's  fair  bow  can  equal  thee, 

In  all  its  gaudy  drapery. 
Thou  first  essay  of  light,  and  pledge  of  day, 
ttival  of  shade,  eternal  spring  of  light, 

From  thy  bright  unexhausted  womb, 
The  beauteous  race  of  da^ .?  and  seasons  come ; 

Thy  beauty  ages  cannot'wrong, 

But  spite  of  time  thou'rt  ever  young; 
Thou  art  alone  heav'n's  modest  virgin  light, 
Whose  face  a  veil  of  blushes  hides  from  mortal  sight ; 
At  thy  approach  Nature  erects  her  head, 

The  smiling  universe  is  glad, 

The  drowsy  earth  and  seas  awake, 
And  from  thy  beams  new  life  and  vigour  take; 

When  thy  more  cheerful  rays  appear, 

Ev'n  guilt  and  women  cease  to  fear  ; 
Horror,  despair,  and  all  the  sons  of  night, 
Retire  before  thy  beams,  and  take  their  flight. 
Thou  risest  in  the  fragrant  east, 
Like  the  fair  phoenix  from  her  balmy  nest; 
But  yet  thy  fading  glories  soon  decay, 

Thine's  but  a  momentary  stay ; 

Too  soon  thou'rt  ravish' d  from  our  sight, 
Borne  down  the  stream  of  day,  and  overwhelmed  with  light, 

Thy  beams  to  thy  own  ruin  haste, 

They're  form'd  too  exquisite  to  last: 
Thine  is  a  glorious,  but  a  short-Hv'd  state  ; 
Pity  so  fair  a  birth  should  yield  so  soon  t«  fate.' 

Turning  to  the  window  at  the  other  end  of  the 
loom,  looking  upon  the  road,  she  seated  herself 
there,  to  watch  the  approach  of  St.  Ruth,  and 
soon  felt  herself  amused  by  the  number  of  passing 
vehicles,  the  people  going  to  and  coming  from  the 
ferry,  and  an  assemblage  of  half-clad  but  sturdy- 
looking  children,  (to  whom  she  flung  a  handful  oi 


MONASTERY    OV    ST.    COLUMB.  6$ 

loose  change),  pigs,  dogs,  and  poultry,  all  bask- 
ing together,  in  the  most  sociable  manner  possible 
in  the  sun;  the  agreeable  concert  they  formed, 
heightened  by  the  gabbling  of  geese,  the  shouting 
of  boatmen,  the  boisterous  merriment  of  labourers 
taking  their  morning  pipe,  and  the  monotonous 
strokes  of  a  smith's  hammer  in  a  neighbouring 
forge. 

St  Ruth  soon  made  his  appearance,  and  imme- 
diately after  breakfast,  they  proceeded  to  St.  Co- 
lumb's,  which,  from  finding  it  to  be  his  residence, 
she  was  still  more  anxious  than  before  lo  see  She 
found  it  perfectly  according  with  the  description 
she  had  received,  or  rather,  Ihe  idea  she  had  from 
that  description  formed  of  it — a  venerable  pile, 
magnificent  in  its  dimensions,  though  decayed  in 
many  parts ;  its  ancient  buttresses  were  tufted 
with  grass  ;  and  the  massy  foliage  of  the  ivy.  that 
over-run  the  walls,  was  beautifully  contrasted  with 
the  wild  flowers  that  waved  their  yellow  and 
purple  hearts  upon  the  battlements ;  the  dark 
shade  of  thickly-clustering  trees  heightened  its  air 
of  religious  gloom ;  and  a  murmuring  rivulet  di- 
vided its  precincts  from  the  native  home  of  St. 
Ruth.  Of  this  there  was  a  noble  view  through 
the  spreading  oaks  and  venerable  beeches  that  gave 
richness  to  the  park  in  which  it  stood  ;  but  no  spi- 
ral smoke,  ascending  above  their  foliage,  gave 
cheerful  signs  of  its  being,  as  heretofore,  the  seat  of 
hospitality  ;  festivity  had  indeed  forsaken  it,  and 
all  around  strikingly  announced  its  desertion.  '  [ 
cannot  look  in  that  direction/  said  St  Ruth,  as  he 
pointed  it  out  to  the  eager  inquiry  of  his  com- 
panion, '  without  mingled  sensations.  But  forlorn 
indeed  must  he  feel  himself,  who  finds  himself 
stripped  of  all  his  early  connexions,  without  having 


@4  MONASTERY    OF    3T.    COLUMB. 

formed  new  ones  to  supply  their  place.  Such,  in- 
deed, are  the  feelings  imparted  by  the  image  of 
past  joys,  the  retrospect  of  early  scenes,  that  I 
perfectly  acquiesce  in  the  observation  of  our  suf- 
fering equal  pain,  from  the  pertinacious  adhesion 
of  unwelcome  images,  as  from  the  evanescence  of 
those  which  are  pleasing  and  useful ;  and  that  in- 
deed it  may  be  doubted,  whether  we  are  most 
benefited  by  the  art  of  memory  or  forgetfulness ; 
yet,  oh!  not  for  all  the  torpid  tranquillity  the 
latter  could  bestow,  would  I/  he  added,  with  all 
his  wonted  animation,  '  be  deprived  of  the  exqui- 
sitely painful  delight  attendant  on  the  review  of 
past  happiness — the  treasuring  up  in  our  heart  of 
hearts  the  memory  of  those  we  have  loved.  To 
think  of  being  deprived  of  the  power  of  remem- 
bering them,  strikes  me  with  the  same  terrible,  the 
s.eme  death-like  sensation,  that  the  idea  of  annihi- 
lation does.' 

'  I  can  readily  indeed  believe/  said  Angeline, 
'  that  the  grief  which  time  has  softened  may  be 
pleasing  to  the  feelings ;  for,  as  in  the  mild  gloom 
of  twilight,  there  is  an  inexpressible  charm  in  ten- 
der melancholy,  or.  as  Ossian  expresses  it,  a  joy 
in  grief,  when  peace  dwells  in  the  heart  of  the 
mour  iful/ 

St.  Ruth  gratified  her  with  a  view  of  the  interior 
as  well  as  exterior  @f  the  monastery  :  she  found  it 
well  worth  seeing,  containing  many  ancient  reliques, 
and  curious  tombs,  highly  interesting  from  their 
antiquity,  and  the  historical  anecdotes  connected 
with  them. 

Almost  the  whole  of  the  day  was  passed  in 
strolling  about,  but  sometimes  without  b,?ing  al- 
most conscious  where  they  were,  so  interesting 
were  the  subjects  on  which  they  had  to  converse. 


MdNASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  65 

But  frequently  was  the  pleasure  Angelina  de- 
rived from  these  conversations  damped  by  the 
painful  consciousness  of  a  secret  from  him — him 
who,  both  as  her  first  friend,  and  the  being  so 
long  regarded  by  her  as  a  parent,  had  so  great  a 
right  to  her  unreserved  confidence. 

A  hope  that  the  change  in  her  prospects  might 
be  the  means  of  hastening  the  avowal  she  was  now 
so  anxious  for,  and  thus  relieving  her  from  the  pain 
she  felt  she  should  endure,  while  she  had  to  accuse 
herself  of  any  thing  like  insincerity  towards  him, 
induced  her  to  write  to  Villiers,  for  the  purpose  of 
acquainting  him  with  what  had  happened,  though 
uncertain  whether  her  letter  would  reach  hinr, 
from  not  exactly  knowing  whether  it  was  his  inten- 
tion or  not  to  return  to  the  hotel  in  town,  where 
he  had  informed  her  he  lodged. 

On  the  same  subject  St.  Ruth  also  wrote  to  Ros- 
crea,  and,  by  return  of  post,  received  a  congra- 
tulatory letter  from  him  ;  for  aware  of  the  anxiety 
he  suffered  on  account  of  Angeline,  he  could  not 
doubt  the  recent  discovery  being  a  source  of  real 
happiness  to  him  :  after  giving  utterance  to  the 
joy  which  he  himself  experienced  at  it,  he  men- 
tioned his  intention,  if  possible,  of  quitting  town 
directly,  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  Angeline  ere 
her  embarkation,  and  offering  her  his  congratula- 
tions in  person. 

Pleased  as  Angeline  felt  she  should  be  at  sue!? 
an  opportunity  of  expressing  her  grateful  sense  of 
the  kindness  she  had  experienced  from  him,  yet, 
when  she  reflected  on  the  construction  lady  Rosa- 
mond might  put  on  the  circumstance,  should  it 
ever  come  to  her  knowledge,  she  fervently  hoped 
he  might  not  be  able  to  do  as  he  wished,  but  of 
course  without  acknowledging  so  to  St.  Ruth,  from 

VOL.      II.  fr 


66  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

the  concealment  she  had  already  observed  relative 
to  the  real  cause  of  lady  Rosamond's  coolness  to 
her, 


CHAP.  V. 


Nothing  so  kind  as  he  when  in  my  arras ; 

#  *  *  *  « 

But  when  we  met,  and  I 
Ran  to  embrace  the  lord  of  all  my  wishes, 
Oh  !  then  he  threw  me  from  his  breast, 
Like  a  detested  sin  ;  as  I  hung  too 
Upon  his  knees,  and  begg'd  to  know  the  cause, 
He  dragg'd  me,  like  a  slave,  upon  the  earth, 
And  had  no  pity  on  my  cries — 
Dash'd  me  disdainfully  away  with  scorn  ; 
He  did,  and  more,  I  fear  will  ne'er  be  friends, 
Though  I  still  love  him  with  unbated  passion. 
Alas  !  I  love  him  still ;  and  though  I  ne'er 
Clasp  him  again  within  these  longing  arms, 
Yet  bless  him,  bless  him,  Gods,  where'er  he  goes ! 

OTWAY. 

A*  FEW  successive  days  were  passed  in  this  man- 
ner ;  Sunday  was  the  day  on  which  Roscrea  was 
expected,  if  he  came  at  all  On  the  morning  of 
this  day,  Angeiine  repaired  to  a  little  country 
church  in  the  neighbourhood ;  and  soon  after  her 
return  to  the  inn,  not  well  knowing  what  to  do  with 
herself,  St.  Ruth  having  told  her  he  should  not 
come  out  that  day,  owing  to  the  greater  probabili- 
ty there  was  on  this  than  any  other,  of  encounter- 
ing some  one  that  might  recollect  him,  walked  out. 
In  the  stillness  that  on  this  hallowed  day  prevails 
in  the  country — the  cessation  of  those  busy  sounds 
that  on  others  fluctuate  on  the  air — the  ploughman's 
whistle,  the  clacking  of  the  noisy  mill,  the  uproar 
of  the  joyous  children  just  let  loose  from  school — 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

together  with  the  sight  of  the  implements  of  rural 
industry  carelessly  scattered  about,  the  pitchfork 
leaning  against  the  stack  it  helped  to  raise,  the 
scythe  half-buried  in  the  turning  jgrass  and  wild 
field  flowers  it  cut  down,  the  cabins  shut  up,  and 
their  inhabitants,  in  their  best  attire,  sauntering 
along  the  roads,  or  collecting  in  groups  about  the 
chapels,  there  is  something  inexpressibly  tranquil- 
lizing to  the  mind,  something  particularly  calculat- 
ed to  calm  the  feelings,  and  excite  a  tender  pen- 
siveness. 

Those  of  Angeline  gradually  acknowledged  its 
powerful  influence  ;  she  felt  a  serenity  diffusing  it- 
self through  her  mind,  such  as  she  had  long  been 
a  stranger  to.  The  retrospect  of  recent  occurren- 
ces, for  the  first  time,  failed  of  producing  any  vio- 
lent emotion.  She  still  dwelt  on  them  with  aston- 
ishment, but  without  that  violent  agitation  they 
had  heretofore  occasioned.  For  the  first  time  her 
transport  at  the  idea  of  her  union  with  Villiers — 
the  reflection  of  their  fates  being  irrevocably 
blended,  was  unalloyed.  The  benevolence  that 
was  awakened  for  others,  by  the  general  aspect  of 
all  around,  was,  in  some  degree,  extended  to  her- 
self; she  began  to  think  her  conduct  excusable, 
and  tnat  if  discovered,  it  would,  when  he  was 
known,  be  deemed  equally  so,  by  those  in  whose 
opinion  she  was  anxious  to  be  justified.  With 
mingled  rapture  and  tenderness  she  dwelt  on  his 
idea,  and  fondly  apostrophized  him  in  her  heart, 
with  ecstasy  yielded  to  the  belief  of  his  thoughts 
being  at  that  moment  employed  in  a  similar  way — 
his  absent  spirit,  if  any  reliance  was  to  be  placed 
on  internal  feelings,  mingling  in  sweet  and  myste- 
rious communion  with  hers. 

Rapture,  at  least  that  rapture  which  souls  of 


O'S  MONASTERY    OF    St.    COLUME. 

high- wrought  sensibility  experience,  is  often  in  its 
affect  like  grief.  Tears  dropt  on  the  soft  cheek  of 
Angeline ;  but  like  the  morning,  blushing  through 
its  balmy  dews,  she  unconsciously  smiled  through 
(hem,  at  the  blissful  images  presented  to  her  fancy. 

Lost  in  reverie,  she  strolled  along  the  rural  road, 
without  a  thought  of  turning,  till  the  lengthening 
shadows  reminded  her  of  the  expediency  of  ad- 
vancing no  further. 

She  found  the  landlady  at  the  door  impatiently 
watching  for  her  approach,  with  cheeks  as  red 
irom  vexation  at  her  staying  so  long  beyond  the 
time  at  which  she  had  informed  her  dinner  would 
be  ready,  as  the  flaming  ribbon  that  decorated  her 
cap,  and  almost  tempted,  in  the  name  of  St.  Pa- 
Irick,  to  demand  where  she  had  been,  observing,  if 
the  goose  was  as  dry  as  the  stubble  amongst  which 
it  fed,  she  jnus t  blame  herself  for  it ;  and  that  had 
she  staid  out  mucli  longer,  she  should  have  been 
after  going  to  father  Cormac,  to  let  him  know  she 
was  afraid  of  her  being  run  away  with. 

Angeline,  laughing,  demanded  whether  the  gen- 
tlemen in  this  quarter  were  of  so  adventurous  a 
character  as  to  allow  her  to  entertain  such  a  fear  ? 
and  in  reply,  received  a  compliment,  that,  from  its 
unqualified  fiattery,  excited  another  smile. 

In  momentary  expectation,  from  his  letter,  of 
seeing  Roscrea,  Angelina,  after  dinner,  involuntari- 
ly seated  herself  in  the  window  to  watch  for  him ; 
but  carriage  after  carriage  passed,  without  the  ex- 
pectation she  could  not  avoid  indulging  being  real- 
ized. At  length,  tired  of  remaining  in  this  way,  or 
rather  desirous  of  trying  to  obtain  a  little  air,  the 
atmosphere  being  uncommonly  heated,  she  bent 
her  steps,  soon  after  tea,  towards  St.  Columb's,  not 
however  without  leaving  a  direction  for  him,  in 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  6§ 

cage  he  should  arrive  during  her  absence,  and  pre- 
fer following  to  sending  for  her. 

With  the  pensive  gloom  of  twilight,  whose  dusky 
veil  had  already  fallen  o'er  the  face  of  nature,  the 
soft  music  of  the  village  bells,  now  in  full  motion, 
sweetly  accorded, 

Falling  at  intervals  upon  the  ear 
In  cadence  sweet,  now  dying  all  away, 
Now  peafingloud  again,  and  louder  still, 
Clear  and  sonorous  as  the  gale  comes  on  ; 

Nor  was  this  the  only  sound  that  reached  her 
ear ;  the  more  mighty  bells  of  the  cathedral  of 

\\r flung,  at  intervals,  across  the  water, 

their  deeper  and  more  reverberating  sound,  min- 
gled with  the  hum  of  the  scattered  multitude  there. 

In  proceeding  to  the  retired  walks  of  St.  Co- 
lumb,  she  had  to  pass  the  front  of  the  edifice.  She 
could  not  do  so  without  involuntarily  pausing,  for  a 
few  minutes,  to  contemplate  it — so  sublime,  so  pic- 
turesque, so  impressive,  was  the  effect  produced 
by  the  blaze  of  light  within,  affording,  through  the 
narrow  windows  of  the  pinnacles,  just  a  sufficient 
view  of  the  range  of  upper  cloisters,  designated  the 
walk  of  the  friars,  to  give  scope  to  the  imagination, 
and  pouring  through  the  lower  ones, 

'  Where  Superstition,  with  capricious  hand, 
In  many  a  maze  the  wreath  had  plann'd  ; 
With  knes  romantic  ting'd  the  gorg'ous  pane, 
To  fill,  with  holy  light,  the  wondrous  fane,' 

A  flood  of  varied  splendgur  on  the  foliage,  the  con- 
trast between  this  splendour  and  the  duskiness  of 
the  silent  shades  to  which  she  repaired,  had  the 
effect  of  heightening  their  gloom  to  her  imagina- 
tion, but  which  aoon  became  varied  by  the  inces- 


0  MONASTERY  OI    ST.  COLUA1B. 

sant  flashings  of  the  sky,  accompanied  at  times  by 
a  muttering  sound  of  distant  thunder. 

But  though  startled  at  times  by  the  momentary 
corruscations,  and  experiencing  a  thrilling  sensa- 
tion at  the  still  deeper  darkness  they  occasioned, 
Angeline    found    a  walk   beneath  the    venerable 
trees  of  St,  Columb,  at  this  pensive  hour,  too  pleas- 
ing to  her  feelings  to  be  able  to  prevail  on  herself 
immediately  to  depart,  more  especially  as  she  was 
not  without  a  hope  of  here  meeting  St.  Ruth.    She 
could  not  find  herself  in  the  lonely  haunts  of  his 
youth,  without  his  interesting  story  being  recalled 
to  her  recollection.     Musing  upon  his  unmerited 
Bufferings,  she  almost  unconsciously  strayed  to  the 
spot  where  the  fatal  discovery  had  taken  place, 
that  so  considerably  augmented  them.      As  she 
glanced  round  it,  the  scene  that  had  passed  here 
became   pictured   to  her   imagination ;    St.  Ruth 
bursting,  in  wild  despair,  from  the  concealment  of 
the  low-browed   arch — the    silver-headed  monk, 
pale  and  mournful — and  Elvira,  lovely  in  distress, 
so  etherealized  by  sorrow,  as  to  appear  ready  to 
mount  on  the  wings  of  the  wind,  to  the  airy  halls  of 
her  father. — '  Oh,  what  a  group  !'  involuntarily  ex- 
claimed Angeline,  as  if  in  reality  she  beheld  the 
sketch  of  her  fancy  embodied :  '  and  oh  !  what  a 
conviction  must  the  sufferings  of  such  beings  afford 
of  the  existence  of  a  future  state  ! — another  and  a 
better  world  !     For  that  the  divine  Creator  should 
permit  the  virtue  he  must  approve  to  experience 
the  misery  it  often  does  in  this  life,  without  there 
was  a  state  in  which  for  'every  trial,  every  sorrow, 
an  adequate  reward  is  prepared,  would  not  be  con- 
sistent with  the  idea  we  have  formed  of  his  benevo- 
lence and  justice  :  yes,  every  thing  tends  to  con- 
vince the  reflecting  mind  of  there  being 


MONASTERY    OP    ST.    COLUMB.  71 

'A  bright  reversion  in  the  sky 

For  those  who  nohly  think,  or  bravely  die.' 

The  sound  of  approaching  footsteps  caused  her 
to  turn,  and  through  the  gloom  she  beheld  a  tall 
slight  figure  advancing ;  instantly  concluding  it 
was  Roscrea,  from  the  resemblance  it  bore  to  him, 
she  was  on  the  point  of  uttering  his  name,  when  a 
vivid  flash  of  lightning  allowed  her  to  see  she  was 
mistaken  in  her  supposition,  by  disclosing  to  her 
other  features  than  his,  the  features  of  Viiliers. 

Yielding  to  the  impulse  of  her  feelings,  with  a 
shriek  of  glad  surprise,  she  was  throwing  herself  in- 
to his  arms,  when  raising  his  hand  against  his  breast, 
he  prevented  her — '  No,  sorceress/  he  cried,  '  no  ! 
the  spell  is  broken  that  would  have  rendered  your 
blandishments  enrapturing ;  I  can  no  longer  be  de- 
ceived— the  mist  is  removed  from  my  eyes — the 
illusion  vanished  !  Oh  God,  God !'  he  impatiently 
added,  frantically  striking  his  forehead  and  stamp- 
ing on  the  ground,  (  why,  why  not  sooner !  why 
not  in  time  to  prevent  my  entailing  eternal  shame  and 
lasting  wretchedness  upon  myself!  but  1  am  just- 
ly punished  for  the  violation  of  a  solemn  promise — 
for  the  indulgence  I  gave  to  headlong  passion : 
but  for  this  1  should  not  now  find  myself  bound  by 
a  tie  I  must   ever  execrate  :  but  hearken  to  me, 
wretched  creature  !'  grasping  the  arm  of  the  almost 
petrified   Angeline,    '  though   1    cannot    rend    it 
asunder,  though  our  miserable  fates  are  for  ever 
linked  together,  no  act  of  mine  shall  ever  confirm 
it.     Once  more  have  I  sought  you — once  more 
prevailed  on  myself  to  hold  converse  with  you,  to 
look  on  you  ;  but  it  is  only  for  the  purpose  of  tel- 
ling you  that  1  for  ever  disclaim  and  renounce  you, 
that  we  shall  meet  no  more,  and  that  the  only  atone- 
ment you  can  make  for  the  misery  it  inflicts,  is  by 


y£  MONASTERY    OF.  ST.    COLUMB. 

letting  the  unfortunate  connexion  between  us  re* 
main  for  ever  a  secret.' 

'  Do  1  hear  aright !'  cried  Angeline,  when  the 
shock  her  outraged  feelings  had  sustained  would 
permit  her  to  speak  ;  *  is  it  he  who  has  so  recent- 
ly vowed  to  be  my  protector — in  whose  keeping,  at 
the  altar  of  our  God,  I  deposited  my  happiness — 
is  it  him  I  hear  renouncing  me  ?  Villiers,  for  this 
strange,  this  terrible  determination,  this  sudden 
alienation  of  an  affection  on  which  1  so  fondly,  firm- 
ly relied,  there  must  be  some  deeper  cause  than 
mere  caprice — tell  me  how  1  have  offended,  how 
unhappily  incurred  your  displeasure?  I  have  a 
right  to  know — a  right  to  insist  on  being  informed — 
how  else  can  I  vindicate  myself?  Let  me  know 
my  crime,  my  offence — or  rather  my  imputed  crime 
and  offence  ;  for  to  all  my  heart  acquits  me  of 
either,  and  most  of  all  to  you/ 

'Oh  Heavens!'  exclaimed  Villiers,  again  impa- 
tiently stamping  on  the  ground,  'what consummate 
artifice  this  pretended  ignorance !  but,  traitress,  it 
will  not  do.  To  your  own  heart  1  refer  you  for 
the  explanation  you  require  of  me.  Oh,  would  to 
God  it  could  indeed  acquit  you  !  1  should  not 
then  experience  the  distraction  1  now  do  ;  but  to 
yield  belief  to  your  assertion  would  be  to  unite  the 
folly  of  credulity  to  the  madness  of  passion — to  rcc- 
der  myself  a 

*  Fix'd  figure  for  the  hand  of  Scorn 
To  point  his  slow  unmoving  finger  at.' 

No !  the  hour  that  proved  I  was  deceived,  that 
hour  took  from  the  deceiver  all  further  power  of 
deception;  nor  should  1  now,  I  repeat,  have  suf- 
fered myself  to  seek  you,  but  that  1  deemed  it  ex- 
pedient, in  time,  to  apprize  you  of  the  "futility  of 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  73- 

Disclosing  the  fatal  connexion  between  us,  in  con- 
sequence of  my  irrevocable  resolution  never  to  re- 
cognise you  as  my  wife  ;  not,  however,  without  be- 
ing ready  to  make  an  adequate  provision  for  you, 
should  any  thing  of  the  kind  be  required.' 

4  Provision  !'  in  bitterness  of  spirit  repeated  the 
heart-struck  Angeline .  '  Oh  Villiers,  from  him 
who  despises,  who  cast  me  from  him  like  a  loath- 
some weed '  ihen  suddenly  recollecting  her 

letter  to  him,  and  uncertain  of  its  having  been  re- 
ceived, she  besought  him  to  hearken  with  calmness 
to  her  for  a  few  minutes. 

4  I  have  already  hearkened  too  long  to  you/  he 
replied  ;  '  yet  ere  we  part,  and  part  for  ever,  let  me 
have,'  seizing  her  hand  as  he  spoke,  and  feeling  for 
her  wedding  ring,  '  that  fatal  proof  you  possess  of 
my  folly/ 

Angeline  wildly  shrieked,  and  r«swted  his  cruel 
effort  to  deprive  her  of  what  it  might  be  yet  essen- 
tial to  her  honour  to  produce. 

'  Well,  still  retain  it  then,'  said  he  ;  '  retain  it  as 
a  memorial  of  folly,  of  impetuosity,  that  will  never 
cease  being  deplored  !  as  a  memoral  of  the  short- 
lived triumph  of  deceit — as  a  memorial  of  the  fatal 
consequences  of  yielding  to  our  passions  !  Had  I 
resisted  mine,  these  upbraidings  would  not  now 
have  pained — these  pangs  not  now  have  tortured.' 

'  Pangs  !'  repeated  Angeline  ;  '  oh,  Villiers  ! 
rather  acknowledge,  as  1  am  now  fearfully  begin- 
ning to  imagine,  that  these  upbraidings  are  but 
feigned,  to  give  a  colour  of  justice  to  your  intended 
renouncement  of  me  : — you  answer  not — speak,  iti 
pity  !  in  mercy !'  sinking  before  him,  unable  longer 
to  support  her  trembling  frame  ;  '  relieve  me  from 
this  terrible  incertitude  !  my  senses  seem  receding 
—oh  Villier*,  torture  me  not  to  death !  Still  no  re- 


74  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMJ*. 

ply  !'  with  a  frantic  scream,  catching  him  by  the 
coat,  on  seeing  him  shrink  back. 

'  Angeline,  cling  not  thus  to  me/  he  cried,  but 
in  a  voice  scarce  articulate  from  emotion,  spite 
of  his  imagined  cause  for  execrating  the  hour  that 
threw  her  again  in  his  way,  but  too  much  pene- 
trated, too  much  touched,  too  much  affected  by 
her  suppliant  tones,  the  unutterable  anguish  they 
indicated  ;  *  1  would  not  rudely  tear  me  from  your 
grasp,  but  we  must  part,  and  part  directly.* 

'  Yet  hear  me,  Villiers  !'  still  more  alarmed,  she 
exclaimed ;  '  by  the  agony  I  suffer — by  the  vows 
you  so  lately  plighted — by  the  right  1  have  to  ex- 
pect, to  demand  explicitness  from  you,  let  me  im- 
plore you  not  to  plunge  me  into  irretrievable  despair, 
by  refusing  to  come  to  an  explanation  with  me,  by 
persisting  in  leaving  me  benighted  and  forlorn.  Oh 
Heavens  !  when  so  lately  I  beheld  you  at  my  feet, 
did  I  imagine  I  should  ever  be  a  trembling  suppli- 
cant at  yours — that  every  vow  would  so  BOOH  be 
forgotten — that  such  a  meeting  as  this  could  ever 
have  taken  place  between  us  !  But  though  I  might 
be  passive  under  the  wrong — though  to  my  burst- 
ing heart  1  might  confine  the  grief  it  caused,  is  it 
to  be  imagined  my  friends  will  calmly  see  me  rob- 
bed of  happiness,  perhaps  of  fame,  without  any  re- 
sentment of  my  injuries,  or  attempt  at  enforcing  the 
claim,  the  acknowledgment  of  which,  to  the  latter 
at  least,  must  be  essential  ?' 

'  Ha!  is  it  then  come  to  threatening  at  last  ?'  ex- 
claimed the  dreadfully-agitated  Villiers.  '  Publish 
then  that  claim,  but  publish  it  without  a  hope  of 
accomplishing,  through  its  publicity,  the  desired 
end  ;  for  never,  never,  1  swear,  shall  any  circum- 
stance induce  or  compel  me  to  acknowledge  what 
mv  heart  resists/ 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  75 

'  Oh,  I  did  not  mean  as  a  threat  what  I  said/ 
cried  the  weeping  Angeline,  holding  him  still  more 
firmly ;  '  outraged,  insulted,  as  I  may  deem  myself, 
still  Heaven  can  witness  for  me,  i  would  not  threat- 
en, but  implore.  I  have  a  friend,  the  best,  the 
noblest,  the  most  upright  of  men;  Villiers,  let 
him  be  umpire  between  us  ;  to  him,  since  not  to 
me,  explain  why,  ere  well  a  bride,  I  should  feel 
myself  a  deserted  wife !  his  integrity  is  too  great 
to  allow  partiality  to  warp  him  from  justice ;  should 
he  deem  the  cause  assigned  for  the  cruel  circum- 
stance sufficient,  rely  on't  he  will  acknowledge  hig 
opinion.' 

'  Free  me  !'  said  Villiers,  with  firmness,  '  I  see 
through  your  artifice ;  you  would  draw  me  into  some 
situation  that  would  prevent  my  fulfilling,  to  its  full 
extent,  the  resolution  I  have  formed.  Unloose 
your  hold,  or  you'll  force  me  to  use  violence/ 

'  Nay,  you  cannot  be  so  barbarous,'  said  Ange- 
line, struggling  to  detain  him,  '  as  to  persist  in 
your  cruel  resolution  of  forsaking  me  ?  of  never, 
never  letting  me  behold  you  more  ?' 

*  You  err  in  thinking  so ;  1  swear  it,  by  all  1  hold 
sacred  I  swear,  this  is  the  last  moment  we  shall 
ever  converse  together !  that  from  this  moment  I  am 
to  you  forever  dead  !  Inquiries  to  discover  me  will 
be  useless,  or  should  they  succeed,  they  can  ac- 
complish no  other  end  than  that  of  compelling  me 
to  fly  to  some  far-distant  retreat/  As  he  spoke, 
by  a  sudden  effort  he  extricated  himself  from  the 
grasp  of  the  trembling  Angeline,  and  springing 
over  some  intervening  tombstones,  was  out  of  sight 
in  a  moment. 

The  suddenness  with  which  he  burst  from  her 
hold  caused  Angeline  to  fall  to  the  ground ;  for  a 
moment  her  senses  were  overpowered,  but  it  wa* 


76  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

only  for  a  moment ;  her  anguish  was  too  acute, 
her  wild  terror,  at  his  terrible  threat  of  seeing  her 
no  more,  a  threat  so  desolating  to  every  hope,  to 
allow  of  more  than  a  momentary  stupefaction. 
Starting  on  her  feet  she  rushed  after  him,  shriek- 
ing with  despair,  and  calling  on  his  name ;  but  no 
Toice  replied  to  her  cries — ( Yet  hear  me,  Villiers !' 
she  exclaimed;  'Oh!  if  we  must  part,  yet  ano- 
ther instant  let  the  parting  be  delayed  !'  Again 
she  listened,  but  still  no  answer  was  returned ;  her 
fears  became  more  maddening :  *  He  is  gone  !  he 
is  gone!'  she  exclaimed,  wringing  her  hands  in 
wild  despair ;  '  I  shall  never  see  him  more,  and  all 
that  remains  of  life  is  a  dreary  blank  !  yet,  no,'  she 
cried,  raising  herself  in  a  sitting  attitude  on  the 
low  tombstone  on  which,  in  despair,  she  had  thrown 
herself,  and  trying  to  still  the  throbbings  of  her 
heart,  c  it  cannot  be  that  he  could  have  left  me 
entirely  in  such  a  state  !  Villiers !  beloved  Villiers  ! 
speak  to  me ;  oh !  let  me  hear  your  voice  again ! 
let  me  once  more  behold  you,  if  it  is  but  for  an 
instant !'  A  low  sound  met  her  ear ;  with  a  faint 
flutter  of  joy  at  her  heart,  she  held  in  her  breath  to 
listen,  but  it  was  only  the  breeze  rustling  in  the 
high  grass  of  the  tomb  she  heard.  *  Still  silent !' 
she  again  cried ;  *  Villiers,  have  pity ;  my  soul 
dies  away  with  fear/  Again  she  became  all  ear, 
for  again  she  fancied  she  heard  a  low  sighing  near 
her :  but  it  was  only  the  mysterious  whisperings 
of  the  trees  in  the  air  of  night :  she  started  up, 
she  rushed  forward  a  few  paces,  she  strained  her 
sight  to  try  and  penetrate  the  gloom  in  which  eve- 
ry object  was  now  enveloped;  but  in  vain  she 
looked — in  vain  she  called;  no  shadow  met  her 
sight,  no  sound  her  ear,  that  could  long  keep  alive 
a  hope  of  Villiers  not  having  carried  his  cruel 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  77 

threat  into  effect :  the  chillness  of  death  succeed- 
ed to  its  relinquishment  in  her  heart ;  that  sense 
of  desolation,  that  terrible  feeling  of  forlornness, 
to  which  the  heart  of  sensibility  is  but  too  apt  to 
resign  itself  on  the  loss  of  a  beloved  object ;  and 
sinking  on  the  earth,  she  lost  all  immediate  per- 
ception. In  this  state  of  insensibility  she  was  dis- 
covered by  St.  Ruth.  Towards  evening,  he  re- 
paired to  the  inn,  for  the  purpose  of  passing  a 
little  time  with  her,  but  learning  whither  she  had 
strolled,  speedily  returned  to  St.  Columb's  to  seek 
her.  Not  finding  her,  after  a  very  diligent  search, 
lie  was  on  the  point  of  speeding  back,  when  he 
nearly  stumbled  over  her.  His  alarm  at  finding  her 
in  such  a  state,  was,  as  may  be  conceived,  in- 
describable. Raising  her  from  the  ground,  he 
found  her  eyes  closed,  and  a  cold  dampness  on 
her  cheek.  Immediate  assistance  he  deemed  ne- 
cessary, and  accordingly  bore  her  with  all  possible 
expedition  to  the  monastery,  entering,  as  the  first 
he  came  to,  by  the  portal  of  the  church.  Placing 
her  on  a  seat,  he  sprinkled  her  profusely  with  wa- 
ter from  one  of  the  cisterns:  this  application  had 
the  desired  effect ;  she  quickly  opened  her  eyes, 
but  almost  instantly  closed  them  again,  dazzled 
by  the  golden  splendours  that  burst  upon  her  vision, 
and  bewildered  by  the  sight  of  a  number  of  strange 
faces,  for  the  altars  still  blazed  with  innumerable 
tapers,  reflected  and  multiplied  by  the  glittering; 
ornaments  ;  and  a  number  of  the  priests,  in  the 
habits  of  their  various  degrees,  with  several  of  the 
young  choristers  in  their  white  surplices,  and  still 
bearing,  suspended  from  their  wrists,  the  golden 
censors,  from  which  they  had  scattered  through- 
out the  holy  fane  the  balmy  fragrance  of  the  east, 
had  collected  rouud  her.  De  Bursh,  motioning 

VOL.  II.  « 


78  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

for  all  to  draw  back,  soothed  her  with  his  beloved 
accents ;  he  implored  her  to  relieve  him  from  the 
terrible  suspense  he  was  enduring,  bj  saying 
whether  any  thing  had  occurred  to  frighten  or  dis- 
tress her  f  Angeline,  turning  her  eyes  with  a  fond 
though  despairing  look  upon  him,  for  never  is  the 
voice  of  tenderness  so  affecting  to  the  sensitive 
heart  as  in  the  hour  of  sorrow  and  desertion,  forced 
herself  to  reply  in  the  negative,  though,  with  a 
burst  of  tears  so  sudden  and  impetuous,  that,  had 
any  suspicion  lodged  in  his  heart,  he  could  scarce- 
ly have  failed  of  being  induced,  by  it,  to  discre- 
dit her  assertion. 

But  when,  after  her  being  sometime  returned  to 
the  inn,  he  still  found  himself  unable  to  extort  more 
than  a  simple  negative  from  her — saw  her  bosom 
still  heaving  with  convulsive  sobs,  her  countenance 
deluged  with  tears,  her  eyes  alternately  raised 
with  an  appealing  look  of  despair  to  heaven,  and 
bent  to  the  ground  with  an  expression  of  unutter- 
able woe,  he  began  to  grow  seriously  alarmed ;  and, 
with  a  hint  of  his  suspecting  there  was  some  unre- 
vealed  cause  for  the  agonizing  emotion  she  betray- 
ed, entreated  her  to  unbosom  herself  to  him. 

But  though  to  have  obtained  his  advice  in  the 
terrible  situation  in  which  she  found  herself— 
though  to  have  cast  herself  upon  his  bosom,  and 
poured  out  all  the  sorrows  of  her  heart  into  it, 
would  have  been  some  little  consolation,  she  shrunk 
in  inexpressible  terror  from  the  idea  of  meeting 
the  silent  rebuke  of  his  eye — awful  in  displeasure 
from  the  calm  severity  of  its  expression,  from  hear- 
ing the  animadversions  her  conduct  could  not  fail 
of  occasioning;  from  giving  him  the  affliction  of 
knowing  his  precepts,  his  lessons,  his  admonitions, 
had  all  proved  unavailing,  to  guard  Ji#r  from  IIP- 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  71) 

prudence;  that  in  one  hour,  one  fatal  hour,  all 
were  forgotten;  the  happiness  it  had  been  his  gene- 
rous care  for  years  to  guard,  completely  forfeited, 
and  suffering  and  repentance  entailed  on  her  for 
life.  No,  no,  she  could  not  bring  herself  to  let 
him  know  how  much  his  care,  his  tenderness,  Lad 
been  thrown  away — could  not  bring  herself  to  sus- 
tain the  idea  of  hearing  him  lament  o'er  the  blight- 
ed promise  of  her  youth,  of  reading  in  his  looks 
what  he  felt  at  finding  she  had  not  proved  herself 
the  creature  he  had  fondly,  and  too,  too  partially 
imagined  her.  But  the  restraint  she  forced  herself 
to  put  upon  her  anguish  rendering  it  still  more  in- 
tolerable, united  to  the  surmises  she  clearly  saw  it 
was  creating  in  his  mind,  she  at  length  expressed 
a  wish  for  retiring,  under  the  feigned  belief  that 
repose  might  be  of  service  to  her.  De  Burgh  ac- 
cordingly uniting  in  the  belief, .  or  rather  in  the 
hope,  for  he  perceived  nothing  in  her  countenance 
like  ability  to  enjoy  it,  tarried  no  longer,  repeat- 
ing as  he  took  his  affectionate  leave,  the  unhappi- 
ness  he  should  suffer  till  he  saw  her  restored  to 
herself,  and  that  he  should  be  with  her  by  break- 
f^st-time  the  next  morning. 


CHAP.  VI. 

A  rising  storm  of  passion  shook  her  l>reast, 
Her  eyes  a  piteous  show'r  of  tears  let  fall, 
,      And  then  she  sigh'd  as  if  her  heart  were  breaking. 

HOWE. 

BUT  not  immediately  had  the  afflicted  Angeline 
the  comfort  of  finding  herself  alone ;  the  landlad} 
was  officiously  attentive  :  at  length,  however,  shf 


SO  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

was  prevailed  on  to  retire,  and  Angeline  found  her- 
self at  liberty  to  give  unrestrained  vent  to  the  wild 
anguish,  the  agonizing  despair  that  filled  her  soul. 
The  suddenness  of  what  had  happened  had  a 
bewildering  effect  upon  her  senses,  that  almost  in- 
clined her  to  discredit  their  testimony :  but  not 
long  could  a  doubt  of  the  reality  of  what  had  oc- 
curred remain.  No,  the  recent  scene  was  too  ter- 
ribly impressed  upon  her  mind — the  soul-harrow  - 
ing  expressions  of  Villiers — the  wild  flashings  of 
his  eyes  through  the  gloom  of  sorrow  and  despair, 
like  those  flashings  of  the  sky  which  had  allowed 
her  to  see  his  countenance  through  the  gloom  of 
twilight,  to  allow  a  belief  of  her  having  been  under 
ihe  influence  of  an  illusive  dream,  a  disordered 
imagination  :  but  was  not  this  air  of  sorrow  and 
despair  assumed,  for  the  insidious  purpose  of  in- 
ducing a  belief  of  his  conceiving  himself  justified 
in  the  manner  in  which  he  had  acted  ? — Yes  !  the 
more  she  revolved  his  conduct,  the  more  was  she 
confirmed  in  the  idea ;  or  rather,  acquitted  as  she 
was  by  her  heart  of  ought  meriting  reproach  from 
him,  she  could  no  longer  avoid  considering  him  as 
an  unprincipled  wretch,  unworthy,  in  every  re?^ 
pect,  of  the  confidence  and  affection  she  had  be- 
stowed on  him — a  seducer  in  intention,  who,  find- 
ing there  was  no  hope  of  obtaining  a  triumph  over 
her  innocence  but  by  the  semblance  of  honour,  had 
had  recourse  to  a  holy  rite,  for  the  purpose  of  en- 
abling him  to  deceive  her.  But  should  she  allow 
him  toyexult  in  the  idea  of  having  done  so — to  tri- 
umph in  his  intended  perfidy  ? — should  she  rest 
passively  under  her  wrongs  ? — should  she  make  no 
effort  to  obtain  redress  for  her  injuries  ?  Redress  ! 
ah!  what  could  it  obtain  her  ?  could  the  mere  con- 
firmation of  her  claim  upon  him — could  compelling 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  81- 

him  to  acknowledge  her  his  wife,  bestow  felicity, 
without  the  certainty  of  his  regard  ?  Oh  no  !  she 
felt,  or  rather  fancied  she  felt,  it  could  not ;  for 
still  she  dwelt,  with  doat  ing  fondness,  on  his  idea — 
that  her  wretchedness  would  be  less  in  an  eternal 
separation,  than  living  with  him  under  the  convic- 
tion of  the  circumstance  being  one  of  pain  to  him. 
But,  oh !  in  the  wild  extravagance  of  grief,  a  thou- 
sand times  she  was  on  the  point  of  demanding  what 
had  she  done,  to  incur  such  misery,  to  be  neglected 
and  forsaken ; 

And  like  a  rose  just  gather'd  from  the  stalk, 
But  only  smelt,  and  cheaply  thrown  aside, 
To  wither  on  the  ground  ?' 

Iii  the  distraction  excited  by  the  reflection,  she 
was  more  than  once  tempted  to  think  of  throwing 
herself  at  the  feet  of  her  first  protector,  and  avow- 
ing the  predicament  in  which  she  stood ;  but  still, 
as  she  revolved  the  probable  consequences  of  such 
a  measure,  shrunk  apalled  from  the  idea  of  deciding 
on  it. 

From  the  violence  Villiers  had  betrayed,  she 
trembled  to  think  what  the  result  of  his  being  traced 
might  be,  and  to  do  which,  she  was  but  too  well 
convinced  St.  Ruth  would  make  every  exertion,  it' 
once  apprized  of  their  connexion.  Roscrea  too,  to 
whom  he  would  naturally  apply  for  information, 
would  probably,  too,  be  drawn  into  something  un- 
pleasant. But  if  terrified  at  the  thought  of  this, 
.how,  in  silent  sorrow,  did  her  very  soul  seem  to 
dissolve,  at  the  idea  of  what  her  newly-discovered 
and  long  sorrowing  parent  must  suffer,  if  apprized 
of  the  truth!  the  grief,  the  consternation,  the  des- 
pair he  must  endure,  at  learning  her  doom  was  fixed 
— her  destiny  already  decided — all  susceptibility 
H  3 


3  MONASTERY    Ol    bT.    COLUMB. 

to  happiness  already  destroyed  in  her  bosom  : 
From  occasioning  such  mischief,  such  anguish  as 
her  affrighted  imagination  represented  to  her  as  the 
probable  consequences  of  revealing  her  wrongs,  she 
shrank  dismayed,  more  especially  as  she  could  not 
be  assured  their  communication  would  obtain  her 
any  redress.  She  could  not  be  positive  that  Ros- 
erea  could  give  the  necessary  information  respect- 
ing Villiers ;  and  besides,  began  to  apprehend  her 
marriage  might  not  have  been  legally  solemnized. 
The  reflection  of  those  who  had  witnessed  it  was 
no  security  for  this  not  having  been  the  case ;  for 
from  all  that  had  occurred,  fearful  suspicions  began 
to  be  suggested  concerning  them.  The  manner  in 
which  she  had  been  hurried  into  the  measure,  the 
previous  conduct  of  Mrs.  Dillon,  deemed,  at  the 
time,  so  inconsistent  with  the  prudence  she  affect- 
ed ;  above  all,  for  the  first  time,  the  recollection  of 
their  having  omitted  to  procure  her  the  document 
usually  obtained  on  such  occasions,  as  now  consi- 
dered, tended  to  excite  an  alarming  belief  of  their 
having  been  drawn  in  to  aid  in  betraying  her. 

Suddenly  and  solemnly,  therefore,  for  the  pre- 
sent, she  decided  on  not  revealing  her  unhappy  si- 
tuation :  indecision,  like  incertitude,  never  fails  of 
heightening  our  misery.  She  had  no  sooner  de- 
termined on  the  line  of  conduct  she  should  pursue, 
than  her  thoughts  became  more  settled,  her  mind 
snore  composed ;  a  heavy  sense  of  calamity  still 
weighed  upon  her  heart,  but  she  no  longer  felt  her- 
self bewildered  as  well  as  forlorn,  wild  as  well  as 
despairing. 

Jn  resolving,  however,  to  keep  her  agonizing  se- 
cret lodged  within  her  breast  for  the  present,  she 
'lid  not  also  resolve  to  remain  entirely  acquiescent 
under  her  injuries.  She  resolved  on  endeavouring 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  8,S 

to  obtain  the  necessary  information  respecting  Vil- 
liers  from  Miss  Koscrea,  for  the  purpose  of  ad- 
dressing another  letter  to  him,  and  also  by  writing; 
to  Mrs  Dillon,  to  try  and  ascertain  whether  her 
present  suspicions  were  justifiable. 

Throughout  this  night  of  wretchedness,  sleep 
remained  a  stranger  to  her  eyelids  ;  indeed,  she  at- 
tempted not  to  court  its  influence ;  for  though  she 
more  than  once  threw  herself  on  the  bed,  the  agony 
of  her  mind  was  too  great  to  allow  of  her  remaining 
long  there. 

Wi!h  that  feverish  restlessness  and  impatience 
peculiar  to  sorrow,  she  longed  for  day ;  yet  when 
she  saw  it  breaking,  almost  wished  again  for  night, 
so  greatly  did  she  dread  the  remarks  that  might  be 
made  on  her  altered  looks  ;  for  if  her  countenance 
at  all  corresponded  with  her  feelings,  its  expression, 
she  was  aware,  must  be  that  of  wretchedness. 

Even  earlier  than  she  expected,  she  saw  St. 
Ruth  approaching  the  inn  ;  she  instantly  descend- 
ed, with  a  forced  smile,  to  meet  him  ;  but  her  effort 
at  deception  was  unsuccessful :  St,  Ruth  was 
startled  by  her  looks  the  moment  he  beheld  her. — 
'  My  dear  girl/  he  cried,  tenderly  taking  her  hand, 
and  earnestly  regarding  her,  '  I  am  alarmed ;  have 
you  been  ingenuous  with  me  ? — does  no  secret  un- 
easiness weigh  upon  your  mind  ?' 

'  Well/  said  Angeline,  '  since  you  thus  urge  me 
to  be  explicit/  convinced  nothing  but  this  acknow- 
ledgment would  save  her  from  farther  embarrassing 
interrogations,  '  1  will  not  longer  deny  that  my 
spirits  are  depressed  ;  but  is  there  not  some  cause 
for  depression  I  What  should  1  be,  could  1  remain 
entirely  unmoved  by  the  sudden  dissolution  of  the 
ties  that  I  so  long  fondly  imagined  connected  us  ,? 
what,  if  in  the  contemplation  of  new  prospects,  I 


y<*  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLU.MB. 

viewed  my  approaching  separation  from  you,  the 
parent  rny  heart  will  ever  acknowledge,  without 
emotion  ?* 

St.  Ruth  was  too  much  affected  by  this  speech, 
to  be  able  to  reply  to  it,  in  any  other  manner  than 
by  straining  her  to  his  bosom :  in  the  midst  of  the 
emotion  it  excited,  however,  he  rejoiced  at  the  be- 
lief it  inspired,  of  her  having  no  regret  but  what 
time  would  gradually  lessen. 

The  restraint  which,  in  order  to  prevent  his  hav- 
ing any  reason  to  doubt  her  sincerity,  she  felt  her- 
self under  a  necessity  of  imposing  on  her  feelings 
in  his  presence,  became,  however,  so  irksome,  as 
to  make  her,  at  length,  almost  wish  as  much  for  the 
arrival  of  the  expected  summons  from  England,  as 
before  she  had  dreaded  it. 

Her  patience,  in  this  instance,  was  not  put  to 
any  very  severe  test.  In  the  course  of  the  next  day, 
the  steward  arrived,  accompanied  by  the  house- 
keeper, for  the  express  purpose  of  conducting  her 
to  her  father;  and  the  ensuing  one  was  fixed  for 
her  departure. — '  Had  I  seen  this  young  lady  in 
the  first  instance/  said  the  steward,  who  had  lived 
a  long  time  in  the  service  of  Mr.  Clanronel,  as  he 
cast  his  eyes  on  her,  '  1  should  have  deemed  it  un- 
necessary to  make  the  inquiries  1  did,  so  strong  is 
the  resemblance  she  bears  to  her  deceased  mother/ 

The  housekeeper,  who  was  also  an  old  domestic, 
united  with  him  in  his  assertion  ;  and  also  in  expa- 
tiating on  the  happiness  their  master  would  derive 
from  the  restoration  of  such  a  daughter. 

Angeline  listened  to  them  with  faint  smiles;  but 
a.  livelier  emotion  was  excited  by  the  letter  which 
Avas  presented  from  her  father,  containing,  after  a 
thousand  self-congratulations  on  the  felicity  that 
had  so  unexpectedly  been  bestowed  on  him,  the 
tonderest  assurances  of  making  it  his  study  to  ren- 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  85 

der  her  happy ;  and  an  apology  for  not  coming  over 
for  her,  on  the  plea  of  being  so  much  agitated  by 
the  recent  discovery,  as  to  be  unequal  to  the  exer- 
tion. He  also  wrote  to  St.  Ruth,  in  terms  equally 
indicative  of  his  feelings,  expressing  his  hope  that 
he  should  soon  have  a  personal  opportunity  of 
evincing  his  sense  of  the  obligations  he  conceived 
himself  under  to  him. 

But  with  the  inconsistency  of  a  mind  torn  by 
conflicting  passions,  Angeline  now  regretted  what 
she  had  recently  wished  for — the  nearer  the  hour 
for  her  departure  approached,  the  more  wretched 
she  became  :  but  when  she  found  it  actually 
arrived — when  she  heard  herself  summoned 
to  the  boat  which  was  to  take  them  to  the  place 
of  embarkation,  her  feelings  nearly  overcame  her. 
— '  My  dear,  my  beloved  girl/  said  the  greatly- 
affected  St.  Rulh,  straining  her  to  the  bosom  on 
which,  in  a  transport  of  grief,  she  had  thrown  her- 
self, '  this  sorrow  flatters,  but,  at  the  same  time, 
almost  unmans  me.  1  should  grieve,  indeed,  to 
think  there  was  a  chance  of  your  forgetting  me ; 
but  if  my  idea  must  always  be  productive  of  regret, 
greatly  will  the  delight  of  living  in  your  remem- 
brance be  alloyed.  You  must  exert  yourself,  to 
moderate  the  feelings  of  a  heart  too  tenderly  sus- 
ceptible for  its  peace.  You  owe  it  to  the  estima- 
ble parent  to  whom  you  are  going  to  do  so  ;  for 
what  a  damp  on  his  happiness,  if  led  to  believe  you 
did  not  participate  in  it !  You  must  not  bring  sor- 
row along  with  you/ 

'  Must  not!'  involuntarily  repeated  Angeline, 
casting  her  tearful  eyes,  with  a  despairing  look,  to 
heaven ;  '  must  not !'  wringing  her  hands,  and 
dropping,  in  convulsive  agitation,  at  his  feet ;  '  oh, 
what/  in  smothered  accents,  '  but  sorrow  have  I 
the  power  bringing  with  me  ?' 


86  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  » 

'  Angeline/  cried  the  astonished  St.  Ruth, '  you 
really  alarm  me  :  these  violent  emotions  indicate  a 
deeper  cause  for  regret  than  that  which  is  acknow- 
ledged,' 

*  No,  no/  hastily  returned  Angeline,  l  but  the 
long  restraint  I  have  imposed  on  my  feelings  has 
had  the  effect  of  at  length  rendering  them  more 

violent ;  '  I  shall  soon  become  more '  resigned, 

she  was  on  the  point  of  saying,  but  checking  her- 
self in  time,  added  *  more  composed/ 

'  I  hope  so/  rejoined  St  Ruth,  '  on  many  ac- 
counts, but  chiefly  that  no  unpleasant  surmises 
may  be  formed — indeed  you  have  only  to  allow 
yourself  time  to  reflect,  1  think  to  regain  compo- 
sure i  for  surely  no  human  prospects  can  be  more 
felicitous  than  those  which  now  open  to  your  view 
— they  are  such  indeed  as  to  many  would  render 
you  an  object  of  envy/ 

1  Of  envy !'  repeated  Angeline,  with  an  intense 
groan ;  '  oh,  Heavens !  but  the  world  judges  from 
appearances — it  forgets  that  those  are  not  alwaj'-s. 
the  happiest,  on  whom  hereditary  diamonds  sparkle, 
that  the  roses  which  strew  the  paths  of  prosperity, 
no  more  than  those  less  profusely  scattered  in  the 
hiunbler  walks  of  life,  are  divested  of  thorns.  Oh  ! 
if  happiness  be  not  the  inmate  of  the  heart,  can 
any  adventitious  circumstance  bestow  it  ?' 

'  Certainly  not ;  to  allow  them  to  do  so,  it  is  re- 
quisite that  we  should  be  at  peace  with  ourselves — 
able  to  bear  reflection  without  regret,  and  look  for- 
ward without  apprehension/ 

'  Oh,  doubtless!'  said  Angeline,  with  a  fresh 
burst  of  sorrow. 

'  Come,  come/  cried  St,  Ruth,  <  I  can  no  long- 
er permit  the  indulgence  of  these  tears/ 

1  Yet  another  moment/  she  exclaimed,  re>i«f 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    GOLUMB.  87 

ing  his  effort  to  raise  her ;  '  yet  another  moment 
let  me  have  the  soothing  gratification  of  weeping 
at  your  feet.  In  this  posture  let  rne  hear  you  pro- 
mise, never,  never  to  let  any  circumstance  have 
the  power  of  estranging  you  from  me/ 

'  That  1  may  safely  promise,'  he  replied,  with  a 
faint  smile,  but,  at  the  same  time,  without  being 
able  to  prevent  a  tear  from  falling  on  her  white  fore- 
head, as,  unutterably  affected,  he  bent  over  her: 
— *  Yes,  so  completely  have  you  entwined  your- 
self round  my  heart,  that  were  it  possible  you 
could  disappoint  the  expectations  1  have  formed  of 
you,  still,  sfill  might  you  rely  on  finding  a  home,  a 
sanctuary  with  me.' 

Angeline,  with  convulsive  emotion,  pressed  his 
hand  to  her  lips  ;  in  this  moment  of  exquisite  ten- 
derness and  agitation,  the  agonizing  secret  that 
throbbed  in  her  breast  was  ready  to  escape  her 
quivering  lips ;  but  when  she  reflected  on  the  feel- 
ings to  which  she  should  leave  him  a  prey,  by  com- 
municating it  now7 — now  when  time  would  not  per- 
mit any  minute  explanation,  she  checked  the  im- 
pulse that  prompted  the  disclosure,  and  lest  of  be- 
ing betrayed  into  it,  started  up,  and  again  embrac- 
ing him  with  fervor,  rushed  from  the  house. 

The  packet  sailed  that  evening ;  and  towards  the 
decline  of  the  ensuing  day  the  party  landed  at 
Bristol,  whence,  the  next  morning,  they  commenc- 
ed their  journey  for  Rooksdale,  the  seat  of  Mr. 
Clanronel. 

Angeline  strove,  but  not  alvrays  successfully,  to 
combat  with  her  feelings  :  at  times,  they  gained  a 
complete  ascendancy  over  her ;  but  it  was  some 
relief  to  perceive  that  her  companions  imputed  her 
dejection  to  her  sudden  separation  from  him  whom 
she  had  been  so  long  traight  to  consider  her  pa- 


88  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

rent :  but  would  their  master  be  equally  deceived : 
would  he  attribute  her  deep  melancholy — the  ago- 
nies that  at  times  shook  her  very  frame,  to  no  other 
cause  ?  Oh,  much  she  feared  the  contrary — much 
she  dreaded  what  the  result  of  his  keener  penetra- 
tion and  nicer  knowledge  of  the  human  heart  might 
be. 

This  apprehension  made  her  dread  the  termina- 
tion of  her  journey,  and  in  consequence,  gladly 
allow  every  delay  that  consideration  for  her  caused 
to  be  proposed. 

But  notwithstanding  all  these  delays,  towards 
the  decline  of  the  third  day,  it  drew  towards  a  close. 
From  the  summit  of  a  hill,  just  as  the  sun  was  ap- 
proaching the  verge  of  the  horizon,  the  woods  and 
clustered  chimnies  of  the  dwelling  she  was  hence- 
forth to  consider  her  home,  were  pointed  out  to 
her;  something  like  a  sensation  of  terror  seized  her 
at  the  moment,  flushing  her  pale  cheek  with  agita- 
tion, and  suspending  the  tears  that  were  falling  on 
it.  A  sudden  sinking  of  the  road,  by  concealing 
them,  almost  immediately  after,  from  her  view,  en- 
abled her  to  breath  again  with  greater  fredom,  from 
inducing  a  hope  of  not  being  so  near  the  end  of  the 
journey  as  she  had  just  been  led  to  imagine;  but 
presently  again  bursting  on  her  sight,  she  found 
herself  just  at  it. 

Magnificent  gates  of  wrought  iron,  surmounted 
by  the  sculptured  arms  of  the  owner,  admitted  them 
into  a  noble  avenue  planted  with  triple  rows  of  ven- 
erable oaks  and  beeches,  intermingled  with  limes, 
at  '  dewy  eve  diffusing  odours/  On  one  side,  the 
beautiful  park  extended  to  a  distance  not  im- 
mediately determinable ;  on  the  other,  shrubby  hil- 
locks and  scattered  copses,  with  the  spire  of  the  vil- 
lage church,  andan  extensive  viewof  afinely-diversi- 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    Ct)LUMB.  8Q 

fied  country,  were  seen.  At  the  termination  of 
the  avenue,  the  venerable  mansion  was  seated,  on 
a  gentle  eminence,  flanked  at  each  side  with  round 
towers,  beautifully  swelling  on  the  eye,  and  partial- 
ly bespread  with  ivy ;  a  delving  path,  overspread 
with  the  deep  funereal  gloom  of  forest  scenery,  led 
past  the  house  to  the  river,  the  romantic  banks  of 
which,  in  one  direction,  formed  the  boundary  of 
the  grounds. 

But  of  the  beauties  that  here  met  the  view, 
Angeline  was  not  immediately  sensible.  As  the 
gates  unfolded  to  admit  the  chaise,  she  sunk  be- 
neath her  feelings,  nor  recovered  consciousness 
till  the  arms  of  her  father  had  enfolded  her.  In- 
voluntarily she  disengaged  herself  from  them  to 
kneel  at  his  feet,  and  as  she  raised  her  eyes  to  his, 
beheld  a  countenance,  that,  from  its  expression, 
would  instantly  have  reassured  her,  but  for  the 
cruel  reflections  that  overwhelmed  her  at  the  mo- 
ment. 

To  do  justice  to  the  feelings  of  the  enraptured 
father  were  impossible  :  if,  with  his  glowing  pencil, 
the  painter  despaired  of  delineating  the  grief  of  the 
parent  for  his  child,  how  shall  a  writer  hope  to  do 
justice  to  the  transport  of  a  parent  at  the  restora- 
tion of  one  f  Those  are  feelings  and  emotions  that 
mock  description — that  can  only  be  conceived, 
not  represented. 

His  happiness  at  the  recovery  of  such  a  daughter, 
so  surpassing  every  expectation  he  had  allowed 
himself  to  entertain,  was  almost  too  great  for  him 
to  support. — *  Oh,  how  amply  doe.s  it  recompence 
me  for  all  my  past  sufferings  !'  he  exclaimed ;  '  but 
can  it  be  that  it  is  real  ?  am  I  not  rather  under  the 
influence  of  one  of  those  illusive  dreams  that  are 
sometimes  sent  for  the  relief  of  the  unfortunate  ?'— 

VOL.    II.  I 


90  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

but  no,  the  blissful  vision  does  not  vanish !  it  re- 
mains— it  smiles  upon  me — it  lifts  its  benignant 
eyes  to  mine — it  bathes  my  hand  with  tears  ;-— 
yes,  yes  i  1  clasp  to  my  heart  a  living  image  of 
my  sainted  wife  !  an  angel  recalls  me  to  the  joys  of 
domestic  life — to  those  joys  I  thought  for  ever 
withered  on  her  tomb. 

*  Oh  !  tell  rae,  mine  own, 
Where  hast  thou  been  preserVd  ?  where  liv'd  ?  how  found  ?* 

The  news  of  her  arrival  soon  spread  through 
ihe  neighbourhood.  He  who  takes  an  interest  in 
the  joys  and  sorrows  of  others,  may  be  sure  of 
others  taking  an  interest  in  his  ;  but  not  to  chance 
did  he  leave  the  announcement  of  it  to  his  friends 
at  the  Abbey.  Their  written  congratulations  im- 
mediately followed  ;  for  to  offer  them  in  any  other 
way,  for  the  present,  would,  they  conceived,  be 
an  intrusion.  The  proudly-exulting  father  was  too 
impatient  to  display  the  treasure  so  unexpectedly- 
restored  to  him,  to  long  defer  the  introduction  of 
his  Angeline,  by  which  familiar  name,  in  prefer- 
ence to  her  real  one,  she  continued  to  be  called,  to 
his  friends;  accordingly,  the  evening  after  her  ar- 
rival was  fixed  on  for  the  purpose. 

Angeline  knew  not  whether  to  rejoice  at  or  re- 
gret the  idea,  since  though  the  state  of  her  mind 
rendered  the  thoughts  of  society  painful  to  her, 
she  more  feared  particular  than  general  observa- 
tion. Every  hour  seemed  to  render  her  anguish 
deeper  and  more  corrosive,  or  rather,  the  restraint 
she  was  compelled  to  impose  on  her  feelings  had 
the  effect  of  pngravating  them.  But,  like  Shy- 
lock,  she  could  not,  with  truth,  have  said,  there 
rcas  no  tear  but  of  her  shedding — no  sigh  but  of 
her  breathing ;  the  author  of  her  immediate  wretch- 
edness was,  if  possible,  still  more  wretched. 


MONASTERY  OP  ST.  COLUMB.  91 


CHAP.  VII. 

Thou  shall  n«t  break  yet,  heart,  nor  shall  she  know 

My  inward  torments  by  my  outward  shew  ; 

To  let  her  see  my  weakness  were  too  base, 

Dissemblfd  quiet  sit  upon  my  face  ; 

My  sorrow  to  my  eyes  no  passage  fiad, 

But  Jet  it  inward  sink,  and  drown  my  mind  ; 

Falsehood  shall  want  its  triumph — I  begin 

To  stagger,  but  I'll  prop  myself  within  ; 

The  spacious  tow'r  no  ruin  shall  disclose, 

Tfll  down  at  once  the  mighty  fabric  goes.         DRVDE  N. 

THE  moment  lord  Hexfeam  parted  from  her  at  the 
inn,  he  proceeded,  with  all  possible  expedition,  to 
colonel  Dunsaney's  residence,  in  the  county  of 
Wicklow,  to  which,  by  this  time,  he  concluded, 
lie  WAS  returned  from  his  excursion. 

In  thinking  so  he  was  not  mistaken ;  the  instant 
he  was  announced,  the  colonel  surmised  the  mo- 
tive of  his  visit,  and  felt  pained  at  the  idea  of  the 
disappointment  that  awaited  him ;  but,  at  the  same 
time,  rejoiced  to  think,  that  by  having  already 
written  explicitly  on  the  subject  to  the  marquis, 
the  affair  was  brought  to  such  an  issue,  as  pre- 
cluded all  probability  of  argument  or  remonstrance 
relative  to  it — an  apprehension  he  would  not  else 
have  been  entirely  free  from,  owing  to  his  not  be- 
ing perfectly  acquainted  with  the  real  pride  and 
delicacy  of  lord  Hex  ham's  nature. 

He  received  his  lordship  alone,  and  after  a  little 
desultory  conversation,  hinted  his  surmise,  in  a 
laughing  manner,  anxious,  as  soon  as  possible,  to 
get  over  the  unpleasant  explanation  he  had  to  give. 
Lord  Hexham,  with  that  interesting  ingenuous- 
ness which  was  peculiar  to  him,  frankly  acknow- 


§2  MONASTERY  »P  ST.  COLUM3. 

ledged  him  right  in  his  conjecture,  not  without  u 
sensation  of  pleasure  art  being  saved  the  embarrass- 
ment of  entering  on  the  subject  himself;  and  con- 
cluded his  acknowledgment  with  the  request  he 
had  to  make,  but  without  letting  any  expression 
escape  him,  that  could  lead  to  a  suspicion  of  his 
having  seen  Angeline  since  their  first  parting. 

( Your  wishes  are  anticipated,  my  lord/  said  the 
colonel ;  '  it  is  now  some  days  since  I  wrote  a  long 
circumstantial  letter  to  the  marquis ;  but  I  am  con- 
cerned to  add,  the  information  it  contained  was 
not  in  consonance  with  them — not  such  as  I  had 
hoped  and  expected  to  have  had  the  power  of-- — 
but  I  am  distressed  to  see  you  so  agitated/  ob- 
serving him  change  colour,  and  begin  to  tremble. 

'Agitated!'  repeated  the  alarmed  Hexham, 
starting  from  his  seat,  and  again  throwing  himself 
on  it ;  '  oh  God  ! — but  you — you  mistake  ;  1  tra- 
velled in  such  haste,  and — and — '  involuntarily 
applying  his  handkerchief  to  his  face,  '  the  day  is 
overcomingly  close,  I  think/ 

Dunsariey  thought  the  reverse,  but  did  not  at- 
tempt to  heighten  his  too  evident  confusion  by 
sayiag  so. — *  Well,  I  trust  so/  he  rejoined;  ''for 
•A  worthless  woman  is  undeserving  of  a  second 
thought.  Honour  and  friendship  required  my  be- 
ing candid  with  the  marquis ;  the  result  of  my  in- 
quiries relative  to  Miss  De  Burgh  proved  her  utter- 
ly unworthy  of  the  honour  that  was  intended  her ; 
and  1  unhesitatingly  acquainted  him  with  the  fact. 

Oh,  what  a  dagger  did  these  words  implant  in 
the  wildly-throbbing  heart  of  the  proud,  the  keen- 
ly-susceptible Hexham  !  '  Utterly  unworthy !'  in 
faltering  accents,  he  repeated  ; f  utterly  unworthy, 
say  you  !' 

'  Utterly;  and  when  you  hear  the 'particulars  i 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB,  93 

have  communicated  to  the  marquis,  you  must  agree 
with  me  in  thinking  so.'  He  then  briefly  detailed 
the  whole  of  what  he  had  heard  from  Miss  Ros- 
crea  concerning  Angeline,  but  without  revealing 
names,  withheld  by  delicacy  and  feeling,  the  con- 
sideration of  the  unhappiness  he  should  occasion, 
by  disclosing  the  unworthiness  of  so  near  a  con- 
nexion as  Roscrea ;  or  rather  perhaps  a  dread  of 
something  unpleasant  resulting  from  the  circum- 
stance, impelled,  as  he  would  be,  by  a  double 
motive,  to  resent  it — his  sister's  wrongs  and  his 
own  disappointment;  and  concluded  by  demand- 
Ing  whether,  after  what  he  had  heard,  he  did  not 
unite  with  him  in  thinking  Miss  De  Burgh  unwor- 
thy of  another  thought  ? 

Oh  !  what  a  question  to  him  whose  fate  was  ir- 
revocably blended  with  hers  ! — on  whom  her  shame 
must  reflect  shame — her  disgrace,  disgrace  !  He 
tried  to  reply,  but  his  lips  refused  utterance  to  the 
demanded  assent.  Oh !  what  were  all  the  pangs 
lie  had  previously  endured,  though  such,  at  the 
time,  as  he  imagined  would  have  driven  him  to 
madness  as  well  as  despair,  compared  with  those 
lie  now  felt  !  conscious  as  he  was,  for  the  act  that 
had  incurred  them  there  was  no  excuse — nothing 
that  could  be  offered  in  extenuation — that  they 
were  alone  owing  to  the  violation  of  a  sacred  pro- 
mise— to  the  impetuosity  of  headlong  passion,  an 
impetuosity  which,  from  what  it  had  already  made 
him  suffer,  he  should  have  resisted. 

From  absolute  distraction  at  the  idea  of  the  dis- 
grace, the  shame,  the  obloquy  he  had  incurred — 
the  agonizing  idea  of  having  again  given  a  relative 
to  his  family  unworthy  of  being  connected  with 
them,  nothing,  perhaps,  saved  him,  but  the  hope 
suggested  by  the  sudden  reflection  of  his  real  name 
i  2 


94  MONASlTEUY    OF    ST.    COLUM&. 

being  still  unknown  to  Angeline,  of  being  enabled 
perhaps  to  keep  their  bitterly- repented  union  a  se- 
cret. 

But  miserable  was  the  consolation  derived  from 
this  hope — terrible  the  thought,  that  on  chance  he 
must  depend  for  retaining  the  esteem  of  his  family, 
the  respect  of  the  world — that  every  avenue  to  do- 
mestic bliss  was  completely  barred  against  him  by 
his  rashness — that  the  remaining  years  of  his  life 
must  be  passed  in  constant  dread  and  anxiety. 

Yet  it  was  only  by  clinging  to  it  he  could 
think,  with  any  degree  of  calmness,  on  the  situ-  " 
ation  in  which  he  had  placed  himself,  his  wretch- 
edness could  obtain  any  mitigation.  Should  his 
fatal  marriage  transpire,  he  resolved  on  an  immedi- 
ate abandonment  of  his  native  country,  and  thus 
avoiding  the  reproaches,  the  contempt,  the  indig- 
nation of  his  insulted  family.  No,  never,  he  so* 
lemnly  determined,  if  once  known  to  his  father, 
would  he  face  him  again — no,  never  enter  his  pre- 
sence, under  the  agonizing  conviction,  which  in 
that  case,  he  must  feel,  of  being  solely  indebted  to 
the  tie  between  them  for  admission  to  it ;  so  con- 
temptible must  his  breach  of  promise,  the  head- 
long passion  he  had  again  yielded  to,  render  him, 
he  was  aware,  in  his  eyes. 

No  exertion  requisite  to  conceal  his  feelings  La 
the  present  instance  was  wanting,  pride  making 
him  shrink  from  the  idea  of  being  supposed  capa- 
ble of  regret  for  such  a  being  as  Angeline  was  re- 
presented ;  but  the  efforts  he  made  for  the  pur- 
pose were  not  so  successful  as  he  wished;  the 
wild  expression  of  his  eyes,  their  terrible  flashings, 
the  colour  that  alternately  flashed  and  faded  from 
his  cheek,  together  with  his  sudden  starts,  his  mo- 
mentary musings,  gave  his  collected  and  penetra*- 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COIXJMB.  Q£ 

ing  companion  but  too  great  an  insight  into  them ; 
but  though  he  could  riot  help  condemning  the  emo- 
tion he  betrayed,  neither  at  the  same  time  could 
he  help  some  little  degree  of  commiseration  for 
him. 

At  length  he  started  up  to  be  gone.  The 
friendly  Dunsaney  earnestly  besought  him  to  re- 
main, if  not  a  few  days  at  Greymount,  at  least  for 
that  one ;  but  the  tortured  Hexham  was  not  in  a  frame 
of  mind  to  be  able  to  bear  society ;  and  accordingly 
having  received  a  solemn  promise  to  have  his  pre- 
sent visit  to  him  concealed,  he  took  a  hasty  leave, 
and  immediately  repaired  to  an  inn  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood, unable,  or  rather  unwilling  to  proceed 
to  town,  till  he  had  a  little  collected  himself,  and 
finally  decided  how  to  act.  But  to  what  trans- 
ports did  he  abandon  himself,  when  again  free  to 
indulge  his  feelings  !  how  in  indignant  bitterness 
of  soul  did  he  execrate  his  conduct ! — how  the  per  - 
fidy  that  had  given  him  such  cause  to  deplore  it ! 
a  perfidy  of  which  not  a  doubt  remained :  no,  the 
tale  fabricated  for  the  destruction  of  Angeline  was 
too  well  connected  to  permit  him  to  discredit  it. 
Yet  despite  of  her  supposed  unworthiness,  he 
could  not  entirely  tear  her  from  his  heart.  His 
anguish,  his  torments  were  aggravated  by 

'  Fancy  pouring 

Afresh  her  beauties  on  his  busy  thought ; 
Her  first  endearments  twining  round  the  soul, 
With  all  the  witchcraft  of  ensnaring  love.' 

Yes,  he  now  experienced  those  terrible  moments 
felt  by  him, 

'  Who  donts,  yet  doubts — suspects,  yet  strongly  loves,* 


96  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

The  reluctance  evinced  by  Angeline  to  their 
clandestine  union,  he  could  now  no  longer  suppose 
real ;  and  gradually  began  to  experience  the  same 
doubts  of  the  integrity  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dillon  that 
she  had  admitted. 

But  severe  as  were  his  immediate  sufferings,  he 
was  destined,  through  the  malignancy  of  Miss  Ros- 
crea,  to  find  them  still  more  insupportable. 

An  enforced  visit  to  her  father  had  brought  her 
into  the  neighbourhood  just  at  this  juncture,  and 
coming  to  Grey  mount,  just  as  he  was  quitting  it, 
she  saw  him,  but  without  being  perceived,  owing 
to  the  extreme  agitation  he  was  in  at  the  moment. 

AH  anxiety  to  learn  the  motive  of  his  visit  there, 
.she  hastily  informed  the  colonel  of  her  recognition 
of  him.  Since  she  had  seen  him,  he  conceived  he 
might  as  well  be  candid  with  her  ;  or  rather  that  it 
was  necessary  he  should,  in  order  to  account  for 
his  enjoining  her  silence  on  the  subject ;  and  ac- 
cordingly acquainted  her  with  the  cause  of  his 
visit. 

She  heard  with  exultation  of  the  conversation 
that  had  passed  between  them ;  but  when  she 
found  he  had  persisted  in  concealing  from  him,  as 
well  as  from  his  family,  the  name  of  the  person 
whom  Angeline  was  accused  of  being  attached  to, 
her  pleasure  was  a  little  damped,  lest  the  circum- 
stance should  be  a  means  of  yet  causing  some 
doubt  to  be  entertained  of  the  truth  of  the  allega- 
tions against  her :  and  accordingly,  she,  in  conse- 
quence, resolved,  after  a  little  consideration,  on  re- 
vealing it  herself  to  him ;  though  well  aware  of  the 
disclosure  being  one  that  could  scarcely  fail  of 
creating  a  lasting  breach  between  him  and  Roscrea, 
from  the  manner  in  which  it  was  but  natural  to 
suppose  it  would  occasion  him  to  treat  the  latter. 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  97 

To  this  determination  she  was  still  further  induced, 
by  her  ardent  desire  for  an  opportunity  of  con- 
versing with  him — an  opportunity  she  knew  she 
must  not  attempt  to  seek,  without  being  furnished 
with  a  plausible  pretext. 

From  the  direction  she  saw  him  taking  as  he  was 
quitting  Greymount,  she  concluded  it  was  not  his 
immediate  intention  to  return  to  town.  Instantly 
making  the  necessary  inquiry,  she  found  she  wa« 
right  in  her  conjecture  ;  and  having  ascertained  the 
place  where  he  was,  she  lost  no  time  in  dispatch- 
ing a  billet  to  him,  to  request  a  few  minutes  con- 
versation with  him  in  the  course  of  the  evening. 

Lord  Hexham  was  not  a  little  agitated  by  the 
receipt  of  this  billet ;  but  though  nothing  could  be 
more  unpleasant  than  the  request  it  contained,  his 
curiosity  was  too  strongly  excited  by  it,  to  allow 
of  his  making  any  excuse  to  avoid  complying  with 
it. 

Accordingly  he  returned  for  answer,  that  at  the 
time  appointed,  he  should  be  in  waiting  at  the  place 
she  had  mentioned.  That  she  did  not  allow  him 
long  to  watch  for  her,  may  readily  be  imagined ; 
but  her  transport  at  beholding  him  was  checked  by 
seeing  no  corresponding  transport  sparkle  in  his 
eyes — no  indication  of  his  being  actuated  by  more 
than  politeness  on  the  occasion — his  experiencing 
even  pleasure  at  the  interview  ;  on  the  contrary, 
the  earnestness  with  which  he  entreated  her  to 
conceal  from  her  brother  and  lady  Rosamond  hav- 
ing seen  him,  was  an  evident  proof  of  his  sincerely 
regretting  the  circumstance. 

But  though  at  present  she  could  not  help  giving 
way  to  the  mortifying  belief  o>f  being  an  object  of 
perfect  indifference  to  him,  she  yet  flattered  her- 
polf  she  should  be  able  to  inspire  him  with  the  sea- 


98  MONASTERY  OP  ST,  COLlJMB. 

thnents  she  wished ;  and  at  all  events  felt  it 
would  be  a  lasting  source  of  consolation  to  reflect 
she  had  succeeded  in  depriving  her  detested  ri- 
val, as  she  still  continued  to  consider  Angeline,  of 
Iiis  regard. 

Having  given  him  to  understand,  as  indeed  lie 
had  all  along  supposed,  that  her  knowledge  of  his 
being  in  the  neighbourhood  was  owing  to  chance, 
she  proceeded  to  explain  the  motive  that  led  her 
to  request  this  meeting,  or  rather  the  pretended 
one  : — *  Whether  colonel  Dunsaney  has  informed 
you/  she  said,  '  ©f  my  being  the  person  from  whom 
he  received  the  information  he  was  so  desirous  of 
obtaining  relative  to  Miss  De  Burgh,  1  know  not ; 
if  not,  a  dread  of  his  having,  perhaps,  been  tempted 
to  reveal  more  than  1  wished,  impels  me  to  betray 
the  circumstance  myself. 

'  Then  you  wished,'  involuntarily  repeated  the 
confused  'Hexham,  hurt,  mortified  beyond  expres- 
sion at  finding  her  acquainted  with  his  unfortunate 
attachment,  or  rather,  perhaps,  at  finding  her  ac- 
quainted with  the  cause  he  had  to  blush  at  it. 
'  Have  the  goodness/  in  still  more  agitated  accents 
he  added, '  to  explain  yourself.' 

'  Yet  by  giving  way  to  my  fears,  should  I  be  the 
means  of  in  reality  betraying  what  I  am  so  anxious 
to  conceal,'  she  musingly  replied,  *  ere  I  am  more 
explicit,  let  me  beg  of  you  to  say  whether,  in  the 
course  of  your  recent  conversation  with  the  colo- 
nel, my  brother  was  mentioned  ?* 

'  Your  brother  !'  said  lord  Hexham,  again  invol- 
untarily repeating  her  words ;  '  your  brother !'  with 
almost  a  start  of  wild  dismay  at  the  surmise  sug- 
gested by  this  question  ;  '  no  r  but  why  did  you 
inquire,  may  I  ask  ?  There  was  nothing  in  our  re- 
cent conversation  that  could  possibly  have  led  to 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COfctfMB.  §£ 

the  mention  of  his  name/  intently  regarding  her  as 
he  spoke. 

'  Oh,  1  am  satisfied  !'  slie  answered,  with-  affect- 
ed carelessness  ;  *  the  colonel,  I  see,  was  dfocreet : 
— come,  let  the  subject  drop.  I  want  to  know  how 
Jong  you  propose  remaining  here  ?' 

'  Excuse  me/  said  the  terribly  agitated  Hexham, 
trembling  with  strong  emotion,  and,  for  the  first 
time,  fervently  grasping  her  willing  hand,  as  if  fear- 
ful else  of  her  vanishing  from  his  view,  ere  she  had 
satisfied  the  dreadful  solicitude  she  had  excited  ;  1 1 
cannot  let  it  drop  so  sgon.  The  manner  in  which 
you  have  expressed  yourself  has  given  birth  to  a 
surmise,  that — that  my — anxiety  for  my  sister's 
happiness/  he  with  difficulty  proceeded,  *  will  not 
allow  me  to  yield  passively  to  :  do  you  mean  to 

insinuate  that  Roserea '  he  paused,  unable  from 

conflicting  feelings,   to  articulate  tbe  que&tkm  he 
would  have  asked. 

'  Good  Heavens  i  that  I  should  have  been  so 
unfortunate  as  to  betray  what  I  had  such  powerful 
reasons  for  wishing  to- conceal/  returned  Miss  Ros- 
crea  ;  '  but  since  I  have  done  so,  let  me  make  the 
only  amends  in  my  power  for  the  inadvertence  1 
have  been  guilty  of,  by  imploring  you  to  feign  igno- 
rance on  the  subject ;  if  not  to  oblige  me,  at  least  to 
save  lady  Rosamond  from  the  pain  I  am  certain  you 
must  be  aware  she  would  feel,  at  any  misunderstand- 
ing between  you  and  Roscrea.  Notwithstanding 
what  has  happened,  i  am  convinced  he  is  sincerely 
attached  to  her ;  and  that  sensible  of  his  error,  he 
either  has,  or  speedily  will,  relinquish  the  unhappy 
connexion  he  formed — an  error,  in  extenuation  of 
which/  looking  with  malicious  significance  at  him, 
•*  you  must  allow  there  was  strong  temptation.' 

Lord  Hexham,  but  too  well  understanding  the 


100  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

meaning  of  her  look,  started  ;  and  frantically  strik- 
ing his  throbbing  foreheard,  stamped  on  the  ground. 
He  had  believed  his  tortures  incapable  of  aggrava- 
tion ;  but  the  feelings  he  now  experienced,  at  being 
led  to  consider  so  near  a  connexion  as  the  husband 
of  his  sister  the  betrayer  of  the  being  on  whom  he 
had  conferred  the  title  of  his  wife,  convinced  him 
he  was  mistaken  in  thinking  so. 

'  1  am  sorry  to  see  you  so  agitated,'  resumed 
Miss  Hoscrea,  after  a  momentary  pause  ;  ( though 
to  be  sure,  when  1  reflect  on  your  affection  for  your 
sister ' 

'  Lady  Rosamond!'  almost  frantically  exclaimed 
her  agonized  companion;  'oh, 'tis  not  of  lady  Rosa- 
mond 1  think:  oh,  no,  no !'  again  passionately  striking 
his  forehead,  and  stamping  on  the  ground ;  then 
suddenly  recollecting  himself,  he  stammered  out 
an  apology  to  the  cruel  dissembler,  whose  arts  had 
been  the  means  of  working  him  up  to  this  frenzy, 
for  the  violence  he  had  been  betrayed  into  before 
her ;  and  reminding  her  of  the  promised  silence  re- 
lative to  seeing  him,  would  immediately  have  taken 
leave,  but  was  prevented  by  her. 

While  it  was  possible  to  detain  him,  she  could 
not  bring  himself  to  let  him  depart ;  under  the  pre- 
text of  wishing  to  moderate  his  indignation  against 
her  brother,  she  succeeded  in  keeping  him  a  few 
minutes  longer  with  her ;  but  without  seeing  any 
thing  like  an  indication  of  a  warmer  sentiment  for 
her  than  he  had  previously  experienced  ;  but  more 
than  ever  fascinated  from  this  interview,  she  re- 
solved, almost  against  hope,  to  persevere  in  her 
designs  respecting  him. 

Again  on  entering  the  inn,  the  unhappy  Hexham 
abandoned  himself  to  the  most  dreadful  transports. 
He  felt  scarcely  able  to  endure  with  a  settled  brain, 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLl'MSr  JQ1 

ihe  reflection  of  the  husband  of  his  sister  being  the 
rival  who  had  given  him  such  cause  to  execrate  the 
hour  that  bound  him  to  Angeline. 

A  thousand  wild  projects  of  revenge  and  despair 
took  alternate  possession  of  his  mind,  but  all  of 
which  gave  way  to  the  consideration  of  being  unable 
to  accomplish  any  one  of  them,  without  betraying 
what  he  had  now,  from  the  recent  discovery,  such 
additional  motives  for  wishing  to  conceal.  Yes  ; 
in  consequence  he  was  more  than  ever  solicitous  to 
hide  his  repented  marriage — more  resolutely  de- 
termined than  ever  on  renouncing  Angeline. 

What  immediately  followed  is  already  known.  It 
seemed,  indeed,  throughout  the  affair,  as  if  circum- 
stances purposely  combined  to  injure  the  cruelly- 
persecuted  Angeline,  Lord  Hexham,  according 
to  the  direction  he  had  received  from  her  at  parting, 
proceeded  to  the  Ferry-house,  to  inquire  for  her ; 
and  being  mistaken  for  Roscrea,  received,  in  con- 
sequence, the  message  she  had  left  for  him — a  mes- 
sage which,  giving  the  exasperated  Hexham  to  see 
she  was  in  expectation  of  being  followed  by  his 
imagined  rival,  tended  not  a  little  to  heighten  the 
furious  tempest  then  raging  in  his  soul. 

With  what  devastating  violence  it  burst  upon  the 
defenceless  head  of  the  napless  Angeline,  has  been 
already  described ;  but  the  misery  it  occasioned, 
though  such  as  to  t wring  her  very  heart,  was  still 
surpassed  by  his,  owing  to  the  dread  that  torment- 
ed him,  and  the  terrible  reproaches  he  had  to  make 
himself.  On  quitting  her,  he  hastened  to  the  place 
of  embarkation,  impatient,  on  many  accounts,  to 
find  himself  out  of  the  kingdom ;  but  owing  to  the 
excessive  agitation  of  his  spirits,  he  was  taken  so 
ill,  almost  immediately  after  his  landing,  as  to  be 
compelled  to  pause,  for  a  few  days,  on  the  road, 

VOL.    II.  K 


JO2          /M;i>V*AfcTBEY«  OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

and,  accordingly,  did  not  reach  St.  Cuthbert's,  till 
after  Angeline's  arrival* in  its  vicinity. 

The  marquis  was  too  anxious  to  see  him  freed 
from  an  unworthy  attachment — disentangled  from 
the  snares  which  an  artful  and  unprincipled  woman, 
as  he  was  led  to  believe  the  innocent  Angeline,  had 
spread  for  him,  to  be  able  to  prevail  on  himself  to 
defer,  for  any  time,  communicating  the  explanatory 
letter  he  had  received  from  his  friend  colonel  Dun- 
saney ;  little  aware  that  to  the  knowledge  already 
possessed  of  its  contents,  was  owing  the  extreme 
agitation  he  could  not  avoid  noticing  in  his  manner. 

Lord  Hexham  perused,  or  rather  seemed  to  pe- 
ruse it,  with  feelings  that  damped  his  forehead  with 
the  cold  chill  of  agony,  and  varied  his  cheek  with  the 
alternate  glow  of  confusion  and  paleness  of  death. 

'  I  am  concerned,  my  dear  Edmund/  said  the 
marquis,  on  his  returning  it  to  him,  in  impressive 
silence,  '  to  perceive  you  so  much  affected ;  but 
this  is  the  last  pang,  I  trust,  a  worthless  woman  will 
ever  cause  you.  From  this  moment,  I  trust,  she  will 
be  forgotten  ;  and  that  by  banishing  her  your  heart, 
you  will  make  room  for  the  admission  of  one  every 
way  worthy  of  a  place  in  it.  That  1  could  allow  any 
selfish  considerations  to  induce  me  to  rejoice  at  the 
degeneracy  of  a  fellow-being,  I  hope  and  trust  you 
do  me  the  justice  to  believe  impossible  ;  but  to  be 
ingemwus,  i  own  1  cannot  bripg  myself  greatly  to 
lament  your  recent  disappointment,  though  most 
sincerely  do  I  the  cause  to  which  it  is  owing,  hav- 
ing, since  your  departure  hence,  beheld  a  prospect 
of  an  alliance  for  you,  so  every  way  answering  my 
hopes  and  wishes  on  the  subject,  that  1  own  1  can- 
not help  almost  rejoicing  at  your  being  still  at  liber- 
ty to  think  of  it :  bu*  ere  I  am  more  explicit,  I 
must  give  you  the  particulars  of  a  most  extraordi- 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB*  103 

nary  event  that  has  lately  taken  place  here — one 
of  those  singular  occurrences,  that  when  only  known 
by  relation,  requires  something  of  credulity  to  be 
credited/  He  then,  without  further  preface,  pro  - 
ceeded  to  inform  him  of  the  unexpected  restoration 
of  the  long-lamented  daughter  of  Clanronel ;  con- 
cluding with  an  acknowledgment  of  hers  being  the 
alliance  he  had  just  alluded  to. — '  She  is  represent- 
ed as  all  that  is  amiable/  he  continued ;  *  for  owing 
to  her  recent  arrival,  no  introduction  has  yet  taken 
place ;  and  on  this  habitable  globe  there  exists  not 
a  man  with  whom  f  could  so  much  wish  io  form  a 
family  connexion  as  her  father,  and  who,  I  am  well 
convinced,  would  derive  equal  pleasure  from  the 
circumstance  ;  for  frequently,  in  deploring  the 
treasure  he  imagined  lost  for  ever,  has  he  expatiat- 
ed on  the  happiness  it  would  have  afforded  him, 
had  she  been  spared,  to  have  seen  her  the  bond  of 
a  still  closer  union  between  our  families  :  at  his  side, 
therefore,  I  expect  no  obstacle  to  my  wishes  j  and 
trust  you'll  soon  empower  me  to  explain  them — 
my  anxiety  to  see  you  in  possession  at  last  of  do  - 
mestic  happiness  being  unutterable.  How  shall  I 
rejoice  should  my  present  hope  be  realized  !  how, 
at  length,  at  the  prospect  of  growing  old  amidst  a 
vace  of  thine !  nay,  be  not  so  agitated,  my  dear 
boy ;  what  must  that  father  be,  whose  solicitude 
for  the  felicity  of  his  offspring  were  less  ?  In  the 
course  of  the  ensuing  day,  we  shall  have  an  oppor- 
tunity of  ascertaining  how  far  report  is  to  be  de- 
pended on,  the  evening  being  fixed  on  for  the  intro- 
duction of  the  young  heiress  to  the  friends  of  her 
father :  I  am  glad  you  arrived  in  time  to  be  preseht 
at  the  ceremony,  persuaded,  from  his  attachment 
to  you,  Clanronel  will  be  gratified  by  the  circum- 
stance/ 


104  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

Not  so  agitated !  oh  Heavens,  how  impossible 
for  the  almost  distracted  Hexham  to  be  less  so  J 
finding,  as  he  now  did,  from  this  conference,  his  si- 
tuation becoming  still  more  embarrassing,  his  hope 
of  even  a  transient  respite  from  anxiety  destroyed. 
Oh,  as  well  might  silence  have  been  enjoined  the 
raging  winds,  as  calmness  recommended  to  a  breast 
lorn  with  conflicting  passions  like  his. 

That  he  could  hope  entirely  to  escape  being  ad- 
dressed on  such  a  subject,  he  had  never  flattered 
himself;  on  the  contrary,  his  apprehensions  rela- 
tive to  it  were  no  inconsiderable  augmentation  of 
the  uiihappmess  and  agitation  he  experienced ;  but 
.so  immediately  he  did  not  imagine  he  had  any  thing 
to  fear :  .in  consideration  of  his  recent  disappoint- 
ment, he  had  flattered  himself  some  time  would 
have  been  allowed  to  elapse,  ere  a  wish  of  the  kind 
was  hinted,  and  thus  some  for  enabling  him  to  col- 
lect himself. 

But,  contrary  to  his  expectations,  he  now  found 
himself  not  only  taken  by  surprise,  but  an  alliance 
suggested,  for  declining  which  he  feared  no  plausi- 
ble excuse  could  be  offered,  and  consequently,  that 
nothing  could  prevent  the  circumstance  drawing 
upon  him  the  indignation  and  resentment  of  his  fa- 
mily ;  the  thought  was  agonizing,  yet  could  he  see 
no  way  of  relieving  himself  from  it,  act  as  he  would. 
Whether  he  remained  or  departed — whether,  by 
allowing  himself  to  be  introduced  to  the  lady,  he 
rendered  it  still  less  than  ever  in  his  power,  if  she 
at  all  answered  the  description  given  of  her,  to  find 
a  plausible  pretext  for  rejecting  the  projected  alli- 
ance, or  by  abruptly  departing,  allowed  the  mar- 
quis to  believe  him  resolutely  bent  on  thwarting  his 
wishes,  he  saw  no  possible  way  of  avoiding  what  he 
dreaded. 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  105 

Convinced,  however,  that  he  should  not  only 
hasten,  but  aggravate  it,  by  any  appearance  of  pre- 
meditated opposition,  he  resolved  on  quietly  re- 
maining a  little  longer  at  St.  Cuthbert's.  Painful 
in  the  extreme,  however,  was  the  resolve,  from  the 
efforts  he  knew  it  would  oblige  him  to  make — the 
restraint  it  would  compel  him  to  impose  on  his 
feelings. 


CHAP.  VIII. 

He  withers  at  the  heart,  and  looks  as  wau 

As  the  pale  spectre  of  a  murder'd  man  ; 

In  solitary  groves  he  makes  his  moan, 

Walks  early  out,  and  ever  is  alone  ; 

Nor  mix'd  in  mirth,  ia  youthful  pleasures  shares, 

But  sighs  when  songs  and  instruments  he  hears. 

DRYDEN. 

MEANWHILE  preparations  were  making  for  the 
introduction  of  Angelina  to  the  friends  of  her  fa- 
ther. The  ceremony  was  too  interesting  to  his 
feelings,  not  to  induce  him  to  give  something  of  so- 
lemnity to  it ;  till  the  whole  of  the  party  invited 
were  assembled,  he  decided  on  her  not  making  her 
appearance,  and  then  on  conducting  her  in  himself. 

Sinking  beneath  the  pressure  of  concealed  sor- 
row, her  thoughts  confused,  her  cheerfulness  as- 
sumed, dreading  the  encounter  of  every  eye,  lest 
of  its  glance  proving  too  penetrating,  Angeline 
could  have  wished  there  had  been  less  of  parade 
on  the  occasion,  but  of  course  without  allowing 
herself  to  give  a  hint  that  she  did. 

The  family  at  the  Abbey  was,  of  all  others,  the 
one  her  father  intimated  his  wish  of  her  being 
on  intimate  terms  with ;  and  by  his  particular 
K  % 


106  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLD  MB. 

mention  of  his  friends  there,  first  gave  her  to 
understand  she  was  in  the  vicinity  of  a  place  where 
she  was  likely  to  encounter  lady  Rosamond  again 
— ;an  idea  that  agitated  her  not  a  little ;  but  when 
she  reflected  on  the  little  likelihood  there  was,  from 
her  being  settled  in  another  kingdom,  of  her  at 
least  immediately  meeting  her  there,  and  the  im- 
probabilily  there  was,  situated  as  she  now  was,  of 
her  insinuating  any  thing  to  her  prejudice,  she  tried 
to  calm  the  emotion  excited  by  the  thought ;  and 
decided  on  leaving  to  chance  the  disclosure  of  their 
acquaintance. 

This  of  course  she  could  not  have  thought  of 
doing,  but  that  she  was  aware  of  St.  Ruth  having 
concealed  from  her  father  his  assumption  of  another 
name  than  his  own,  and  consequently  that  that 
which  she  had  recently  borne  being  unknown,  if 
mentioned  to  lady  Rosamond,  it  would  be  by  one 
she  was  unacquainted  with. 

The  marquis  and  his  family,  with  the  exception 
of  lord  Hexham,  were  too  impatient  to  offer  their 
personal  congratulations  at  Rooksdale,  to  unneces- 
sarily delay  proceeding  there  ;  under  some  frivo- 
lous pretext,  he  declined  accompanying  them,  but 
promised  speedily  to  follow.  The  truth  was,  he 
determined  on  seeing  who  the  party  there  consist- 
ed of,  ere  he  made  his  appearance  in  it ;  according- 
ly he  alighted  at  the  entrance  of  the  avenue,  and 
iaking  advantage  of  his  knowledge  of  every  pri- 
vate entrance  to  the  house,  to  gain  admittance  to 
it  unperceived,  repaired  to  a  door,  whence,  without 
any  risk  of  being  seen,  he  could  obtain  the  view 
he  required.  The  room  with  which  it  communi- 
cated, and  to  which  he  had  been  guided  by  his  ear, 
was,  in  days  of  yore,  the  feudal  chiefs'  grand  hall 
of  audience  ;  for,  as  already  mentioned,  Kooksdale 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB..  107 

was  a  mansion  of  ancient  date ;  its  dimensions 
were  magnificent,  and  decorations  in  a  correspond- 
ing style  ;  the  walls  were  hung  with  crimson  velvet, 
and  ornamented  with  a  variety  of  exquisite  paint- 
ings from  the  glowing  pencils  of  the  Italian  school ; 
several  fine  antiques,  in  statues  and  vases,  were 
ranged  along  them ;  and  a  blaze  of  splendour  dif- 
fused around  by  glittering  chandeliers.  At  the 
extremity  of  the  apartment  was  a  pair  of  immense 
folding  doors,  giving  a  complete  view  of  a  noble 
staircase,  still  ornamented,  as  in  former  times,  with 
pieces  of  armour  and  warlike  trophies  ;  immediate- 
ly opposite  to  this  entrance,  was  the  private  one, 
at  which  the  unhappy  Hexham  had  taken  his  sta- 
tion, and  where  he  had  not  been  many  minutes,  ere 
he  saw  Clanronel  advancing  with  his  daughter ;  the 
crowd  that  gathered  round  them  as  they  entered, 
prevented,  for  a  little  while,  his  having  a  perfect 
view  of  the  latter ;  but  as  she  came  more  forward, 
he  suddenly  obtained  this,  and  beheld,  oh,  what 
was  his  emotion — his  astonishment — his  wild  dis- 
may at  the  moment  !  the  features  of  Angeline — 
of  his  renounced  wife — his  forsaken  bride,  decked 
like  a  bride,  and  receiving  congratulations  on  every 
side ! 

Scarce  could  he  credit  the  evidence  of  his  sen- 
ses— scarce  that  he  was  not  in  a  delirium — that  the 
agitation  of  his  mind  had  not  at  last  affected  his 
brain  :  gracious  God !  was  it  possible  ?  did  he 
hear,  did  he  see  aright  ?  what !  was  she  the  weep- 
ing outcast  whom  lie  had  so  recently  thrown  from 
his  bosom — spurned  at  his  feet  ?  what !  was  she, 
a  being  loaded  with  obloquy  and  shame,  was  she 
the  daughter  of  the  generous,  the  noble  Clanronel  ? 

Oh  Heavens  !  how  was  he  to  comprehend  all 
this  !  but  the  present  was  not  a  situation  for  hint 


108  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

to  dwell  on  the  bewildering  circumstance.  Shud- 
dering at  the  idea  of  what  he  had  escaped  by  not 
accompanying  the  family,  and  equally  at  being  dis- 
covered where  he  was,  he  abruptly  retreated,  nor 
paused  till  he  again  found  himself  within  St.  Cuth- 
bert's.  For  his  unexpected  return  he  assigned  sud- 
den indisposition ;  his  valet  was  summoned  to  attend 
him,  and  in  lighting  him  to  his  apartment,  delivered 
him  aletter  just  arrived.  The  hand  was  not  perfect- 
ly known  to  him,  and  this  circumstance  heightening 
his  impatience  to  peruse  it,  he  hastily  dismissed 
his  attendant,  and  breaking  the  seal,  found,  by  a 
glance  at  the  signature,  it  was  from  Angeline. 

it  was  indeed  the  letter  she  had  deemed  it  ne- 
cesssary  to  write  to  him  immediately  after  the  re- 
cent discovery,  but,  as  may  be  recollected,  without 
being  absolutely  certain  of  its  ever  reaching  him. 
As  she  apprehended,  he  had  not  returned  to  the 
hotel ;  but  being  rather  expected  again,  it  was 
kept  there  for  some  time ;  and  then,  agreeably  to 
the  direction  he  had  given,  in  case  any  thing  of  the 
kind  occurred,  forwarded  to  St.  Cuthberfs. 

All  that  had  previously  appeared  incomprehen- 
sible was  explained  by  it.  It  was  then  too  true 
that  she  was  the  acknowledged  daughter  of  Clan- 
ronel,  alas  !  for  him  too  much  so,  since,  from  her 
abode  being  consequently  fixed  in  the  vicinity  oi 
the  Abbey,  he  must  be  under  the  necessity,  he 
saw,  of  entirely  forsaking  it — entirely  fonaking  his 
paternal  home,  the  loved  society  of  his  family,  the 
scenes  endeared  to  him  by  a  thousand  fond  recol- 
lections.— *  Dear  Clanronel/  he  mentally  exclaim- 
ed, *  ah  !  how  little,  when  listening,  with  tearful 
sympathy,  to  thy  pathetic  tale  of  sorrow,  deplor- 
ing with  thee  thy  lost  child,  and  uniting  with  thee 
in  ardent  wishes  for  her  restoration,  all !  how  littfc 


MONASTEKY  OP  ST.  COLUMB,  109 

did  I  then  imagine  that  the  accomplishment  of 
those  wishes  would  ever  have  proved  a  source  of 
distress  and  dismay  to  me  !  but  strange  as  unfore  - 
seen  are  frequently  the  circumstances  in  which  we 
find  ourselves  placed ;  alas  !  to  thee  also  it  may 
yet  be  productive  of  misery  !  for  she  who  has  al- 
lowed herself  to  deviate  so  widely  from  the  path  of 
propriety,  there  is  too  much  reason  to  dread  will 
not  speedily  permit  herself  to  be  recalled  to  it ;  yet 
who,  that  only  judged  from  her  looks,  could  believe 
a  tale  to  her  prejudice  ?  how  mild,  how  innocent 
her  countenance — how  angelic  its  expression !  what 
sweetness  in  the  smile  that  faintly  brightened  over 
it !  but,  oh !  deceitful  looks !  what  indeed,  it  proves, 
is  all  our  sovereignty,  or  boasted  power,  when  the 
sex  oppose  their  arts  !  who  could  think  that  such 
a  heavenly  face  concealed  a  nature  capable  of  the 
most  perfidious  deception,  that  underneath  its 
smiles,  lurked  pride,  vanity,  and  dissimulation  ! 

He  dreaded  to  think  of  the  motive  to  which  his 
acting  as  he  had  just  done  might  be  ascribed,  and 
was  almost  tempted  by  his  apprehension  to  decide 
on  departing  from  St.  Cuthbert's  the  ensuing  day  ; 
but  when  he  reflected,  that  by  pleading  indisposi- 
tion, he  should  have  a  pretext  for  not  appearing  in 
company,  he  resolved  on  not  yet  awhile  tearing 
himself  from  it,  nor  yet  awhile  relinquishing  the 
society  so  dear  to  his  heart ;  for  banishing  himself 
from  which,  he  was  aware  he  should  in  vain  seek 
consolation. 

Long,  long  indeed  is  it  ere  the  heart  of  feeling 
can  admit  any  for  the  loss  of  that  it  has  been  ac- 
customed to.  Suddenly  deprived  of  it,  or  exiled 
from  the  companions  to  whom  we  have  been  in  the 
habit  of  opening  our  bosom,  with  whom  our  hours 
of  leisure  and  merriment  have  been  shared,  hovr 


110  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUM.B. 

heavy  feels  the  day !  how  sad,  how  solitary  the 
minutes  that  pass  away,  and  return  without  restor- 
ing to  us  our  wonted  gratification  ! 

To  this  resolution  lord  Hexham  was  perhaps 
also  unconsciously  stimulated  by  anxiety  to  know 
how  Angeline  would  conduct  herself,  in  the  situation 
in  which  she  had  been  so  unexpectedly  placed ; 
whether,  with  her  assumption  of  a  new  name,  she 
also  meant  to  assume  a  new  character ;  or  rather 
allow  the  consideration*  of  her  being  BOW  more  ex- 
posed to  observation,  of  consequence,  to  censure, 
influence  her  to  a  more  rigid  adherence  to  propri- 
ety. 


CHAP.  IX. 

Oh  !  let  me  turn  away  my  eyes, 
For  all  around  she'll  her  bright  beams  display  ; 
Should  I  to  gaze  on  the  wild  meteor  stay, 
Spite  of  myself  I  should  be  led  astray. 

OTWAY. 

CLAN  RON  EL,  not  less  anxious  than  the  marquis 
for  an  alliance  between  their  families,  looked  im- 
patiently for  the  expected  arrival  of  lord  Hexham. 
since  so  transcendantly  beautiful  did  Angeline  ap- 
pear in  his  eyes  this  evening,  he  thought  it  next  to 
impossible  she  could  be  seen  by  him  without  his 
becoming  her  captive.  But  infinitely  more  was  it 
from  a  conviction  that  her  happiness  was  likely  to 
be  ensured  by  a  connexion  with  a  family  so  estima- 
ble, than  any  ambitious  motive,  that  rendered  him 
so  solicitous  for  it. 

His  acquaintance  with  the  marquis  had  com- 
menced at  a  very  early  period ;  and  gradually  im- 


MONASTERY  OP  ST. -COLVMB.  Ill 

proved  into  a  friendship  that  time  continued  to 
strengthen,  from  letting  neither  see  any  surpassing 
the  other  in  integrity  and  real  feeling. 

From  his  despoiled  home  Clanronel  hastened  to 
the  vicinity  of  St.  Cuthbert's,  as  to  a  place  where 
alone  his  sorrows  were  likely  to  receive  mitigation ; 
and  found  the  hope  that  allured  him  thither  so 
completely  fulfilled,  as  to  be  induced  finally  to  set- 
tle there. 

But  to  lord  Hexham  he  was,  if  possible,  still 
more  attached  than  to  any  of  the  rest  of  the  fami- 
ly. Even  in  his  boyish  days,  there  was  some- 
thing so  interesting  in  his  manner  as  to  attach  him 
unalterably  to  him,  and  deepen  his  regret  for  the 
loss  of  the  daughter  who  might  have  given  him  a 
claim  to  the  title  of  his  father  : — now  she  was  re- 
stored, and  he  knew  of  nothing  to  impede  his 
wishes  on  this  head 

At  the  imagined  failure  of  lord  Hexham's  word, 
the  marquis  was  not  merely  disappointed,  but  irri- 
tated ;  he  considered  it  as  a  mark  of  disrespect 
which  could  not  be  excused,  and  accordingly  de- 
termined on  being  very  explicit  with  him  on  the 
subject,  the  next  morning ;  but  when,  on  returning 
to  the  Abbey,  he  learnt  to  what  his  not  appearing 
at  Rooksdale  was  owing,  or  more  properly,  the 
reason  he  chose  to  assign  for  not  doing  so,  his  re- 
sentment vanished ;  and  not  wilhout  feeling  dis- 
pleased with  himself,  he  wondered  how  he  could 
have  been  so  unjust  as  to  condemn  him  unheard — 
how,  to  accuse  him  of  what,  from  his  knowledge  of 
his  nature,  he  might  have  been  convinced  lie  was 
incapable  of. — '  But  this  is  the  consequence  of  let- 
ting our  hearts  be  too  much  set  upon  any  thing/ 
he  said ;  '  when  disappointed,  it  is  but  too  apt  to 


MONASTERY    OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

have  the  effect  of  rendering  us  captious  and  u»- 
just.' 

But  from  the  painful  anxiety  his  reported  indis- 
position occasioned,  the  family  were  agreeably  re- 
lieved by  being  joined  at  the  usual  hour  in  the 
breakfast-parlour  by  him,  unable  to  resist  an  in- 
definable wish  to  learn  their  sentiments  of  Angeline, 
notwithstanding  the  necessity  there  was  for  his 
supporting  the  appearance  of  indisposition,  or 
rather  acknowledging  that  which  he  actually  felt 
from  the  extreme  agitation  of  his  mind. 

As  he  imagined,  the  whole  conversation  turned 
upon  Angeline ;  she  was  unanimously  pronounced 
truly  lovely  and  interesting ;  she  had  indeed  so  far 
exceeded  expectation,  so  completely  charmed 
every  heart  by  the  sweetness  of  her  manners,  her 
innocent  modesty  and  native  simplicity  of  look, 
that  a  pleasure  was  experienced  in  praising  her. 

'Had  you  been  introduced  to  her  last  night, 
rely  upon  it,  my  dear  brother/  said  his  sister,  lady 
Mara,  addressing  lord  Hexham,  *  your  heart  this 
morning  would  not  have  been  in  its  right  place/ 

*  Indeed !'  he  replied  with  a,  forced  smile,  but 
eyes  involuntarily  declining,  from  the  painful  con- 
sciousness he  felt  at  the  moment ;  '  is  she  then  so 
very  dangerous  ?' 

*  She  indubitably  is  a  prodigious  fine  creature/ 
said  lord  Mountbrilliant,  a  young  nobleman  of  high 
celebrity  in  the  fashionable  world,  and  who,  drawn 
to  the  Abbey  by  an  attraction  he  was  not  yet  per- 
haps fully  aware  of,  frequently  came  posting  from 
town  for  the  purpose  of  passing  a  few  weeks  at  a 
lime  there  ;  '  her  father,  no  doubt,  will  have  vari- 
ous splendid  offers  for  her,  such  combined  attrac- 
tions rendering  her  a  prize  the  most  exalted  may 
be  ambitious  of.' 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  113 

'  But  which  I  hope  may  not  fall  to  the  lot  of  any 
one  who  is  not  himself  possessed  of  sufficient  meril 
to  be  capable  of  fully  appreciating,  and  of  course 
doing  justice  to  hers/  said  the  marquis  ;  she  is  too 
amiable  not  to  inspire  a  strong  interest  for  her  hap- 
piness.' 

'  When  1  first  cast  my  eyes  on  her  last  night,' 
resumed  the  viscount,  '  I  was  quite  tempted  to 
imagine  her  complexion  one  of  the  finest  imita- 
tions of  nature  1  had  ever  seen ;  but  from  its  varia- 
bleness, 1  soon  found  I  was  mistaken  in  thinking 
there  was  any  art  in  it :  it  quite  reminded  me  of 
Virgil's  description  of  the  beautiful  Lavinia — 

4  A  crimson  blush  her  beauteous  face  o'erspread, 
Varying  her  cheeks  by  turns  with  white  and  red  ; 
The  dawning  colours,  never  at  a  stay, 
linn  here  and  there,  and  flush,  and  fade  away, 
3)elightful  change!  thus  Indian  iv'ry  shews 
"Which  with  the  bord'ring  paint  of  purple  glows, 
Or  lilies  dajnask'd  by  the  neighbouring  rose.' 

Should  she  persist  in  not  rouging,  the  interesting 
hue  of  the  lily  will  doubtless  be  all  the  rage  the 
ensuing  winter,  for  I  presume  Mr.  Clanronel  then 
proposes  bringing  her  out.' 

'if  by  bringing  her  out  your  lordship  means 
bringing  her  to  London,  i  really  can't  positively 
say/  returned  the  marquis. 

•'  Oh,  but  doubtless  such  is  his  intention/  rejoin- 
ed the  viicount ;  e  for  as  it  is  not  now  the  fashion 
to  send  the  pictures  of  beauties  about,  it  would  be 
doing  an  act  of  cruel  injustice  not  to  give  her  an 
opportunity  of  being  seen.' 

*  The  report  of  a  person  of  allowed  taste,  such 
us  every  one  knows  you  to  be,  Mountbrilliant/  said 
lord  George,  the  marquis's  younger  son,  laughingly, 
•  would  equally  avail,  1  dare  say ;  should  you  sotnid 

VOL.  ii.  L 


114  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

her  praises,  the  fair  cynosure  of  the  neighbouring 
woods  need  not  be  at  the  trouble  of  exhibiting  her- 
self to  obtain  admirers/ 

'  You  flatter  certainly ;  but,'  addressing  the 
marchioness,  '  your  ladyship  will  derive  some 
amusement  from  the  perusal  of  the  papers  arrived 
this  day,  i  rather  conceive,  for  there's  a  good  deal 
of  chit-chat  in  them,  on  account  of  several  dejeu- 
jies  andrural^e/es;  and  a  very  detailed  one  of  the 
private  arrangements  of  some  certain  persons  of 
high  distinction,  who  have  lately  afforded  the  pub- 
lic a  great  deal  of  conversation:  it  is  posilively 
asserted  that  lad$"  Gaylove  proceeds  directly  to 
Scotland^  to  obtain  a  divorce  from  her  truant  lord, 
for  the  purpose  of  bestowing  her  fair  hand  on  the 
earl  of  Lochleven;  and  that  he,  lord  Gaylove,  in 
the  event  of  her  succeeding,  is  immediately  to 
make  the  amende  honorable  to  lady  Languish,  for 
the  sacrifice  he  avers  she  has  made  for  his  sake  ; 
and  whose  ci-devant  sposa,  in  his  turn,  is  again 
shortly  to  lead  to  the  hymeneal  altar,  a  lady  of  not 
less  distinguished  merits  than  her  whcm  she  suc- 
ceeds ;  but  as  the  respective  parties  have  all  fami- 
lies, what  a  tangled  consanguinity  is  not  this  likely 
to  occasion  amongst  the  rising  generation  !' 

1  Upon  my  word,  such  things  are  quite  depJor- 
abie,'  said  the  marquis. 

'  Oh  dear,  no  ;  only  a  little  strange ;  for  some  of 
ilie  parties  assurement,  in  my  opinion,  change  for 
the  worse ; — lady  Gaylove  is,  indubitably,  a  finer 
creature  than  her  rival,  lady  Languish.' 

<  What  I  hear/  rejoined  the  marquis,  '  reminds 
me  of  an  observation  I  met  with  in  an  old  author, 
that  innocent  inquiries  are  not  what  please  the 
over-inquisitive  and  busy-bodies;  they  delight  in 
tragedies  and  stories  of  crimes  and  misfortunes,  for 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  1  J  «f> 

which  reason  a  learned  prelate  said — '  Envy  and 
Idleness  married  together,  and  begot  Curiosity/ 
which  is  an  incontinence  of  the  mind;  that  the 
most  perfidious  of  crimes  is  often  nothing  but  a 
curious  inquisition  after,  and  envying  of  another 
man's  happiness  ;  many  having  refused  fairer  ob- 
jects, to  force  the  possession  of  women,  purely  be- 
cause they  were  possessed  by  others/ 

'  Upon  my  honour,  a  vastly  judicious  and  cor- 
rect observation,'  assented  the  viscount ;  'assure- 
ment  there's  avast  degree  of  inordinate  curiosity  in 
the  human  mind  ;  I  pretend  not  to  be  free  from  it 
myself.  There's  lady  Vancouver,  one  of  the  most 
prodigiously  disagreeable  women  nature  was  ever 
pleased  to  form ;  yet  the  happiest  of  mortals  seems 
her  caro:  a  good  deal  surprised  at  this,  and  curi- 
ous to  know  whence  his  happiness  could  originate, 
I  contrived  to  get  intimate  in  the  family,  for  the 
purpose  of  ascertaining ;  and  in  consequence,  was 
very  near  having  my  name  most  unpleasantly  men- 
tioned.' 

*  How  terrible  !'  cried   lord  George,  laughing, 
'  and  your  head,  perhaps,  in  a  caricature  shop ; 
pardon  me,  dear  Mountbriiliant,  but  positively,  1 
should  not  have  been  able  to  restrain  my  risibility, 
had  I  seen  it  there.' 

*  How  vastly  kind  to  tell  me  so !  but   perhaps 
there  are  some  other  heads  that  would  become  a 
place  there  quite  as  well.' 

*  Oh  no — 1  deny  that;  there's  a  certain  whimsi- 
cal expression  in  your  countenance,  that  particular- 
ly suits  it  for  such  a  place.' 

'  Flattering,  upon  honour  !  I  shall  become  quite 
vain,  if  I  listen  to  many  more  such  compliments  ; 
so,  to  avoid  the  danger,  pray,  lady  Mara,  let  mo 
order  the  horses — the  morning  shines,  and  the  fresh 
fields?  invite  us.' 


1  1  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  GOLBMJ5* 

'  Very  well ;  you  have  my  permission  to  ring 
for  them.  To  save  such  a  pure  unsophisticated 
nature  from  the  dangers  of  flattery,  what  is  there/ 
a  little  archly  as  well  as  ironically,  she  said,  '  1 
would  not  do  ?' 

No  sooner  had  they  withdrawn,  accompanied  by 
lord  George,  than  the  marquis  expressed  to  lord 
Bexham  the  hope  he  entertained  of  having  that 
day  the  happiness  of  which  he  had  been  so  unex- 
pectedly disappointed  the  preceding  evening, 
namely,  of  introducing  him  to  Miss  Clanronel,  who, 
with  her  father,  and  the  whole  of  the  party  assem- 
bled at  Rooksdale  that  evening,  were  this  day  to 
J>ine  at  the  Abbey. 

Lord  Hexham  shook  his  head  '  You  do  not 
mean  to  intimate  that  I  shall  again  be  disappoint- 
ed r'  said  the  marquis,  in  rather  an  alarmed  tone. 

A  heavy  sigh  burst  from  the  struggling  bosom  of 
the  unhappy  Hexham. — *  Oh,  why,  why/  he  ex- 
daimed,  *  must  I  appear  unbending  and  ungrateful ! 
my  clearest  father,  do  excuse  me  this  day ;  for  real- 
ly 1  am  unequal  to  the  effort  of  entering  a  large 
party/ 

The  marquis  looked  earnestly  at  him,  and,  in 
consequence,  the  remonstrances  he  was  on  the 
point  of  giving  utterance  to  were  prevented,  so 
clearly  did  his  looks  testify  his  being  indeed  indispos- 
ed. The  marchioness,  equally  alarmed  by  them,  now 
united  her  entreaties  with  his,  to  try  and  prevail 
on  him  to  have  advice;  but,  at  length,  was  induc- 
ed to  give  up  the  point,  on  his  solemn  assurance  of 
ceasing  to  oppose  her  wishes,  should  he  not  speedi- 
ly get  better;  and  at  present  deeming  quiet  the 
only  thing  he  required. 

Clanronel  had  so  fully  expected  this  day  to  have 
been  gratified  by  the  introduction  of  the  two  dear- 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    UOLUMB.  H? 

est  and  most  interesting  beings  in  the  creation  to 
iiiui  to  each  other,  that  nothing  could  surpass  his 
mortification  at  the  disappointment  that  again 
awaited  him,  but  his  regret  at  the  circumstance  to 
which  it  was  owing.  He  could  not,  he  would  not 
be  prevented  paying  his  young  friend  a  visit  after 
dinner. 

Lord  Hexham,  rather  expecting  something  of 
the  kind  from  his  ardent  and  affectionate  nature,  left 
nothing  undone  that  could  possibly  enable  him  to 
regain  some  degree  of  composure.  But  the  reflec- 
tions which  he  strove  to  keep  aloof  for  the  purpose, 
recurred  too  forcibly  the  instant  he  beheld  him, 
not  to  destroy  what  he  had  been  trying  to  attain. 

He  trembled  universally,  and  with  difficulty, 
from  the  powerful  emotion  his  sight  occasioned,  or 
rather  the  ideas  connected  with  it,  could  articu- 
late his  pleasure  at  seeing  him. 

e  My  dear,  dear  boy/  cried  the  warm-hearted 
Clanronel,  grasping  his  hand  between  both  his, 
'  how  do  I  rejoice  at  again  beholding  you  !  yet  is 
the  pleasure  of  the  meeting  damped,  by  finding 
you  here,  the  melancholy  inmate  of  a  sick  cham- 
ber. You  must,  you  must  get  well  directly ;  my 
happiness  will  not  be  complete  till  you  come  abroad 
to  participate  in  it.' 

*  If  nothing  but  my  participation  is  wanting  to 
perfect  it,  let  me  now  assure  you  of  that/  return* 
ed  the  agitated  Hexham. 

*  Tut,  tut,  that  is  not  what  1  meant ;  I  meant 
that  it  would  not  be  complete,  till  you  had  seen 
what  cause  I  had  to  rejoice — in  short,  till  you  and 
my  Angeline/  (oh,  how. did  the  sound  of  that  name 
thrill  through  every  throbbing  nerve  of  Hexham  !) 
'  my  daughter,  my  new-found  treasure,  are  known 
to  each  other.     Oh,  my  younsc  friend,  was  there 


118  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

ever  any  thing  so  wonderful — so  extraordinary,  as 
the  event  that  has  elevated  me  to  felicity  ?  after  so 
long  considering  myself  a  solitary  isolated  being, 
without  any  natural  tie,  any  claim  upon  an  indi  - 
vidual  but  what  friendship  allowed,  to  find  myself 
on  a  sudden  possessed  of  such  a  daughter !  oh,  my 
brain  often  grows  giddy  with  dread  of  its  all  prov- 
ing a  dream !  But  again  1  say,  my  dear  boy,  you 
must  recover  speedily ;  for  not  one  of  the  delight- 
ful plans  and  projects  i  have  been  forming,  since 
the  restoration  of  my  daughter,  can  be  realized 
without  you — you,  whose  boyish  cheek  was  so  of- 
ten dewed  with  tears  of  pity  for  my  sufferings — 
you,  who,  by  a  thousand  indescribable  traits  of 
feeling  and  affection,  gradually  entwined  yourself 
round  my  heart — you,  the  son,  long  since,  of  my 
adoption,  and  now— but,  good  Heavens !  you 
shock,  you  alarm  me  !'  he  added,  in  an  altered 
tone,  on  seeing  lord  Hexham  suddenly  start  from 
his  seat,  and  again  throw  himself  on  it,  as  if  aban- 
doned to  despair ;  '  this  agitation,  this  too  evident 
emotion,  surely  argues  something  more  than  mere 
bodily  indisposition.  You  know  we  have  been  old 
confidents  to  each  other/  he  proceeded,  with  a 
constrained  smile  ;  '  let  that  consideration  induce 
vouto  unbosom  yourself  to  me,  if  any  thing  weighs 
upon  your  mind  in  which  I  can  possibly  assist 
you/ 

With  difficulty  the  agitated  Hexham  prevented 
himself  from  again  betraying  the  emotion  he  was 
in  ;  he  wrung  his  hands  in  agony — '  No,  no/  he 
replied,  but  in  accents  scarce  articulate,  *  you 
mistake/ 

'  Heaven  grant  1  may!'  said  Clanronel,  for, 
n*om  sad  experience,  1  know  that  of  all  maladies, 
fbere  is  none  so  terrible  as  the  malady  of  the  heapt ; 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMfi. 

but  remember  1  am  not  to  be  deceived ;  I  shall  be 
here  to-morrow  myself  to  listen  to  your  tale  of  sym- 
toms/ 

Again  lord  Hexham  assured  him,  fearful  of  let- 
ting him  depart  with  an  impression  on  his  mind  of 
any  thing  extraordinary  being  the  matter  with  him, 
that  he  had  no  malady  to  complain  of,  but  a  slight 
nervous  one,  which  he  trusted  speedily  to  get  the 
better  of. 

'  Well,  well,  I  believe  I  need  not  say  how  sin- 
cerely I  join  in  the  hope/  said  his  deeply  -interest- 
ed visitor ;  '  I  shall  try,  however,  what  my  pre- 
scriptions will  do  for  you,  and  give  you  timely  no- 
tice. Solitude  will  not  be  included  in  them.  I 
am  jealous,'  he  continued,  again  reverting  to  the 
topic  on  which  it  was  so  delightful  to  him  to  dwell, 
'  of  my  little  girl,  on  your  account ;  I  feel  as  if.  1 
wished  her  to  treasure  up  all  her  smiles  and  bewitch- 
ing looks  for  you,  and  must  therefore  have  you 
soon  come  amongst  us,  in  order  that  you  may  se- 
cure them  for  yourself  There's  that  popinjay 
Mountbrilliant,  overwhelming  her  with  compli- 
ments ;  but  that  I  know,  our  blue- eyed  Mara  has 
too  great  a  hold  of  his  heart  to  allow  of  his  long 
persevering  in  them,  1  should  be  quite  cross  at  lis- 
tening to  him.' 

He  remained  some  time  longer  with  him,  nor 
would  have  left  him,  perhaps,  when  he  did,  but 
that  he  could  not  resist  his  wish  of  witnessing  the 
admiration  his  daughter  was  receiving.  From  all 
that  he  had  said,  it  was  evident,  but  too  evident 
to  Hexham,  that,  like  the  marquis,  he  was  bent 
on  an  alliance  between  their  families ;  and  an  addi- 
tional pang  was  experienced  by  him,  from  the  idea 
of  what  he  might  feel  at  his  declining  it.  '  Oh.? 
jjlind  indeed;  hi  this  instance  to  fate!'  he  erred 3 


120  MONASTERY    OF    ST. 

'how  little  is  he  aware  that  to  unbosom  myself  to 
him,  as  he  urged,  would  be  to  destroy  hia  newly- 
experienced  happiness,  dash  the  cup  of  bliss  for 
ever  from  his  lips,  and  again  level  all  his  prospects 
in  the  dust !  how  little  that  to  the  solitude  which 
he  condemns,  I  am  doomed  by  her  who  to  him  is 
such  a  cause  of  rejoicing !  that,  through  her  means, 
1  am  for  ever  banished  the  social  circle — for  ever 
excluded  from  participating  in  the  sweet  delights 
of  domestic  happiness !  that  the  pow&r  of  those 
smiles,  those  bewitching  looks,  of  which  he  speaks, 
I  have  already  but  too  fatally  experienced!  Good 
God  !  how  strange,  how  singular  does  what  has 
happened  seem  !  can;  I  persuade  myself  I  am  not 
dreaming,  when  I  think  of  my  wife  being,  at  this 
very  minute,  beneath  the  roof  with  me,  in  the 
midst  of  my  connexions,  my  friends,  yet  without 
either  party  having  a  surmise  of  the  tie  between 
them!  of  her  whom  they  are  so  anxious  to  see  me 
united  to  being  already  mine,  but  mine  never  to  be 
acknowledged !' 

He  continued  lost  in  thought,  till  roused  by  the 
faint  sound  of  distant  music  from  the  ball-room, 
impelled  by  resistless  feelings,  he  softly  quitted 
his  chamber,  and  gliding  into  an  obscure  passage, 
leading  immediately  to  the  scene  of  gaiety,  again 
beheld  the  enchanting  form  of  Angeline  moving 
through  the  mazes  of  an  intricate  dance  with  his 
brother.  Again,  as  his  eyes  became  riveted  on 
her — again,  as  he  beheld  her  an  object  of  general 
admiration,  he  wildly  demanded  of  himself,  was 
she  indeed  the  weeping  suppliant  he  had  so  recently 
thrown  from  him? — hers  the  beauteous  form  he  had 
spurned  at  his  feet  ? — *  Oh,  Heavens !  as  I  now 
gaze/  he  internally  exclaimed,  '  1  wonder  1  had 
power. to  do  so!  but* have  I  had  power  to  expel 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  121 

her  from  my  heart  ?  Oh  no,  no !'  striking  his  fore- 
head, and  rushing  back  to  the  solitude  of  his 
chamber ;  *  the  pangs  that  now  rend  it  convince 
me  to  the  contrary,  convince  me  that  she  still  reigns 
within  it,  to  my  equal  misery  and  shame/ 

While  her  idea  was  thus  a  source  of  torture  to 
him,  his,  as  lord  Hexham,  was  dwelt  on  with  a 
feeling  of  placid  esteem  and  admiration  by  the  for- 
saken Angeline.  The  terms  in  which  her  father 
had  mentioned  him  had  created  for  him  an  almost 
unconscious  interest  in  her  breast — an  interest  that 
occasioned  her  to  feel  something  like  disappoint- 
ment on  seeing  him  return  unaccompanied  to  the 
ballroom;  for  on  quitting  it,  having  mentioned  to 
her  where  he  was  going,  she  did  not,  in  conse- 
quence, deem  it  altogether  improbable  that  the  in- 
teresting invalid  might  be  prevailed  on  to  make  his 
appearance  there  for  a  few  minutes  ;  but  she  would 
have  thought  herself  insensible,  had  she  not  expe- 
rienced some  little  anxiety  to  behold  a  being  in 
whose  praise  every  tongue  was  eloquent — who  had 
been  represented  to  her  so  amiable,  so  interesting ; 
more  especially  as  she  had  not,  as  yet,  the  re- 
motest suspicion  of  her  father's  motive  for  desiring 
to  excite  such  a  prepossession  in  his  favour.  In 
speaking  of  him  as  he  did,  she  had  no  conception 
of  his  being  actuated  by  any  other  than  mere  esteem 
and  admiration. 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMN. 


CHAP.  X. 

In  vain  you  sooth  me  with  your  soft  endearments, 

And  set  the  fairest  countenance  to  view; 

Your  gloomy  eyes  betray  a  deadneas, 

And  inward  languishing.  LEE'S  (Edipits. 

BUT  for  the  secret  that  weighed  upon  the  tortured 
heart  of  Angeline,  her  embarrassing  situation,  how- 
pure,  how  perfect  would  now  have  been  her  happi- 
ness I  finding  herself,  as  she  did,  the  pride,  the  joy, 
the  delight  of  one  of  the  most  estimable  of  human 
beings,  and  possessed  of  the  means  of  gratifying 
every  wish  in  its  fullest  extent!  But,  alas!  the 
past  had  to  her  poisoned  the  present  and  the  fu- 
ture. The  reflection  of  what  she  in  reality  was, 
a  deserted  wife,  ere  well  a  bride ;  of  all  that  was 
most  precious  in  existence — her  fame,  the  peace 
of  her  idolizing  parent,  being  at  the  mercy  of  a 
man,  wlio,  from  his  inhuman  conduct,  there  was 
but  too  much  reason  to  apprehend  would  hesitate 
at  no  act  of  cruelty  or  injustice,  rendered  vapid 
k>  her  every  enjoyment — tasteless  every  pleasure. 

hi  particular,  but  for  her  cruel  situation,  she 
would  have  been  happ j  in  the  society  of  t  he  ami- 
able family  at  the  Abbey,  so  truly  did  she  find  them 
answering  the  idea  she  had  been  led  to  form  of 
them. 

The  constant  constraint  she  was  under  a  neces- 
sity of  imposing  on  her  feelings  aggravated  her 
wretchedness  ;  to  be  obliged  to  smile,  and  appear 
happy,  witjh  a  heart  wrung  with  anguish,  a  spirit 
possessed  with  dismay,  was  a  misery  scarce  sup- 
portable, but  a  misery  from  which  she  was  not 
quickly  relieved,  30  delighted  was  her  exulting  fa- 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  J2S 

ther  at  exhibiting  her  to  his  friends — so  anxious 
were  those  friends,  by  every  suitable  compliment 
on  the  occasion,  to  evince  their  sincere  participa- 
tion in  the  happiness  her  restoration  had  occasioned. 
At  length  she  began  to  have  longer  intervals  to 
herself,  intervals  that  were  passed  in  a  manner 
that  soon  rendered  her  acquainted  with  all  the  ro- 
mantic solitudes  of  Rooksdale — solitudes  so  delight- 
ful, as  to  induce  her  to  repair  to  them  at  every  op- 
portunity :  exclusive  of  the  state  of  mind  that  ren- 
dered their  privacy  and  deep  gloom  particularly 
adapted  to  her  present  feelings,  she  derived  a  kind 
of  pensive  pleasure  from  straying  amidst  them,  now, 
when 

The  pale  descending  year,  yet  pleasing  still, 
A  gentle  mood  inspires ;  for  now  the  leaf 
Tncessent  rustles  from  the  mournful  grove, 
Oft  startling  such,  as,  studious,  walk  below, 
And  slowly  circles  through  the  waving  air  ; 
But  should  a  quicker  breeze  amid  the  boughs 
Sob  o'er  the  sky  the  leafy  deluge  streams, 
Till  choked  and  matted  with  the  dreary  show'r, 
The  forest  walks  at  every  rising  gale. 

But  the  relief  she  imagined  her  o'erfraught  heart 
would  experience,  from  an  opportunity  of  venting 
its  feelings  in  tears,  was  not  always  felt,  Recol- 
lections were  revived  by  the  scenes  she  frequented, 
that  at  times  had  the  effect  of  rendering  them  less 
endurable  than  ever — the  subduing  recollections  of 
the  delightful  hours  she  had  passed  in  similar  ones 
with  him  who  had  so  cruelly  renounced  her.  In 
those  moments  of  unutterable  softness,  of  reviving 
tenderness,  of  weakened  resentment,  oh  !  how  wild 
was  her  anguish  at  the  thought !  how  like  the  icy 
dullness  of  death  the  sensation  imparted  by  the  idea 
of  seeing  him  no  more  !  A  thousand  times,  with  her 
humid  eyes  involuntarily  bent  on  the  wide-extended 
horizon,  as  if  she  hoped,  in  the  extensive  range,  to 


124  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

have  discovered  it,  has  she  demanded  whither  he 
had  betaken  him  ?  and  jet  as  often  has  doubted,  if 
possessed  of  the  knowledge,  whether  she  would 
avail  herself  of  it — would,  by  seeking  him,  incur  the 
risk  of  encountering  his  cruelty  again  ;  the  risk  of 
being  again  spurned,  reviled,  upbraided,  cast  like  a 
loathsome  weed  away ;  above  all,  the  risk  of  being 
torn  from  her  fond,  her  idolizing  parent ;  oh,  no  ! 
never  could  the  dread  inspired  by  his  inhumanity 
be  sufficiently  conquered  to  permit  of  such  a  meas- 
ure.— Yet  was  this  dread,  now  so  powerful,  a  new 
emotion,  originating  entirely  in  her  solicitude  about 
her  father  r  but  for  that,  what  was  there  which  she 
would  not  voluntarily  have  encountered,  for  the 
sake  even  of  once  more  seeing  him  ? 

But  not  always  for  the  purpose  of  giving  utter- 
ance to  her  feelings  did  she  repair  to  solitude  ;  she 
sometimes  sought  it  for  the  purpose  of  trying  to  sub- 
due them,  of  endeavouring  to  attain  such  a  degree 
of  calmness,  as  should  enable  her  to  enter  society 
with  less  pain,  or  meet  the  observation  of  her  father 
with  less  alarm. 

But  the  eye  of  real  tenderness,  ever  anxious  in 
its  nature,  is  not  easily  deceived.  The  melancholy 
that  weighed  upon  her  spirits  was  apparent  to  her 
father,  from  the  very  first  hour  of  her  arrival  at 
Rooksdale ;  believing  it,  however,  the  natural  re- 
sult of  what  she  felt  at  her  sudden  separation  from 
her  earliest  friend — the  kind  of  revolting  sensation 
which  the  mind  is  sometimes  apt  to  experience,  in 
acknowledging  unexpected  claims,  he  in  conse- 
quence felt  but  little  uneasiness  at  it,  conceiving,  as 
she  became  reconciled  to  her  change  of  situation 
and  connexions,  it  must  give  way.  But  when,  in- 
stead of.  this,  of  yielding  to  the  influence  of  tender- 
ness and  unremitting  attention  to  everv  wish,  he 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUA1B. 

saw  it  daily  strengthen — saw  her,  whenever  she 
thought  she  was  unobserved,  lost  in  gloomy  thought, 
or  bathed  in  tears — saw  her  sometimes,  even  in  the 
midst  of  company,  look  abstracted,  and  forlorn,  he 
became  seriously  alarmed  from  being  compelled  to 
impute  it  to  some  other  cause ;  still,  however,  he 
checked  himself  from  speaking  on  the  subject,  un- 
der the  hope  of  yet  seeing  it  yield  to  her  own  ef- 
forts, and  from  an  unwillingness  to  distress  her  by 
noticing  what  she  wished  to  conceal.  This  hope, 
however,  gradually  weakening,  he  could  no  longer 
control  himself — no  longer  calmly  endure  to  see 
her  fading  and  drooping  before  his  eyes,  like  some 
beauteous  floweret  of  the  spring,  nipt  by  the  return- 
ing winds  of  winter.  Stealing  upon  her  one  day,  in 
a  remote  apartment,  where,  as  usual,  when  alone, 
she  had  abandoned  herself  to  tears,  he  gave  unre- 
strained utterence  to  all  the  anxiety  and  alarm  she 
had  excited. — '  In  vain,  in  vain/  he  cried,  '  you 
try  to  deceive  me — in  vain  to  set  the  fairest  counte- 
nance to  view ;  your  ey«s  betray  an  inward  lan- 
guishing, that  too  fatally  convinces  me  some  secret 
grief  preys  upon  your  heart.  Oh,  my  child,  be  mer  - 
ciful,  be  compassionate ;  relieve  me  from  the  tortures 
endured  from  the  idea,  by  a  candid  avowal  of  the 
cause  of  your  unhappiness  ?  Think  '<is  a  fat  her  solicits 
the  confession,  whose  affection  is  too  great  not  to  in- 
duce him  to  any  measure  that  may  be  deemed  essen- 
tial to  its  removal.  If  owing  to  any  secret  attachment, 
fear  not  to  disclose  it,  since  be  assured,  neither  in- 
feriority of  fortune,  nor  even  of  birth,  provided  the 
object  be  proved  worthy  of  them,  shall  influence 
me  to  disappoint  your  affections,  so  essential  to 
mine  is  your  happiness,  so  interwoven  with  yours/ 
— yet  involuntarily  hesitating  a  little,  as  he  pro- 
reeded,  from  a  dread  of  this  proving  tlie  case,  and 
VOL.  n.  M 


126  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

consequently  his  fond  wish  for  an  alliance  with  the 
Pontefract  family  abortive ;  '  my  existence,  yes !  I 
feel  that  was  it  now  the  will  of  Heaven  to  deprive 
me  of  you,  now  that  the  endearing  ties  of  nature 
have  indeed  been  wound  round  my  heart,  1  should 
not  long  survive  to  mourn  you/ 

'  Oh  my  father !'  said  the  greatly-agitated 
Arigeline,  as  she  raised  his  hand  to  her  pale  quiver- 
ing lips,  '  this  tenderness,  this  goodness  overpowers 
me  !  but  1  trust  1  shall  never  put  either  to  too  severe 
a  trial. — I — '  but  faltering  as  she  spoke,  and  involun- 
tarily inclining  her  face  upon  the  band  she  still  held, 
in  order  to  conceal  the  conscious  blushes  she  felt 
mounting  to  it,  '  have  nothing  of  the  nature  you 
allude  to  to  confess.  Is  it,  is  it  not  possible/  again 
half- meeting  his  eye,  and  again  half-shunning  it,  *is 
it  not  possible  to  experience  melancholy  without 
any  definite  cause  ?  is  it  not  often  known  that, 
without  any  immediate  external  one,  the 

*  Flagging  soul  flies  under  her  own  pitch, 
Like  fowl  in  air  too  damp,  and  lags  along, 
As  if  she  were  a  body  in  a  body, 
And  not  a  mounting  substance  made  of  fire.7 

'  Assuredly,'  replied  Clanronel ;  *  of  the  propen- 
sity to  melancholy  in  the  natures  of  many  who  have 
no  immediate  cause  of  complaint  against  fortune 
on  their  own  account,  there  are  but  too  many  in- 
stances ;  but  then,  'tis  almost  uniformly  confined 
to  those  whose  long  acquaintance  with  the  world 
hasafforded  them  ample  opportunities  of  witnessing 
the  variableness  of  all  human  enjoyments,  the  sud- 
den changes  and  chances  to  which  all  in  this  sub- 
lunary life  are  liable  ;  but  for  the  young  to  experi- 
a  feeling  of  the  kind  would  be  strange  and  unnatu- 
ral ,  Cheerfulness  and  joy  are  their  natural  feelings  ; 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  1£7 

lite,  from  its  freshness  alone,  appears  to  them  pos- 
sessed of  inexhaustible  charms  ;  a  happy  thought- 
lessness, if  I  may  so  style  it,  is  their  distinguishing 
trait ;  they  buz  and  flutter  in  the  genial  ray,  with- 
out thinking,  for  a  moment,  that  it  may  be  with- 
drawn. The  fading  of  the  rose  full  blown  we  can 
account  for ;  but  when  we  see  the  bud  withering 
as  it  opens,  we  at  once  surmise  a  canker  at  the 
heart/ . 

Angeline  gushed  into  tears. — '  Oh  my  father  !' 
she  cried,  *  do  not  render  me  miserable,  by  yield- 
ing to  an  idea  of  that  kind ;  allow  something  for 
the  trials  my  feelings  have  lately  experienced ;  nor 
imagine  I  do  not  fully  appreciate  my  happiness, 
because  a  sigh  has  now  and  then  escaped  me — I 
shall  soon,  1  trust,  be  able  to  convince  you,  in  the 
way  you  wish,  of  my  doing  so.  In  the  meanwhile, 
should  a  chance  tear  be  sometimes  seen  on  my 
cheek,  do  not  seem  to  mind  it ;  to  leave  me  to  my- 
self will  have  a  better  effect  than  any  observation/ 

The  fond  father  promised  what  she  required — • 
required  without  allowing  herself  to  reflect  that  the 
request  was  a  tacit  acknowledgment  of  having 
some  secret  grief  to  conceal.  Indeed,  so  thorough- 
was  he  convinced  of  this,  that  but  for  his  dread  of 
hearing  some  avowal  that  must  compel  him  to 
abandon  his  favourite  project  of  uniting  her  to  lord 
Hexham,  he  would  not  so  soon  have  ceased  to  im- 
portune her  on  the  subject.  That  she  had  formed 
some  attachment,  which,  from  some  cause  or  other, 
she  could  not  bring  herself  to  avow,  was  his  con- 
firmed belief;  and  in  consequence,  he  was  more 
than  ever  solicitous  for  an  introduction  between 
her  and  lord  Hexham  ;  conceiving  it  scarcely  pos- 
sible they  could  be  known  to  each  other  without  a 
mutual  interest  being  excited. 


128  MONASTERY  OP  ST.  COLU.MB. 

The  kind  of  partial  explanation  that  had  taken 
place  between  Angeline  and  her  father  afforded 
some  little  relief  to  her  oppressed  mind,  by  the  in- 
dulgence it  had  allowed  her  to  solicit.  Convinced, 
however,  of  the  source  of  misery  she  should  be  to 
him,  should  she  permit  him  to  imagine  she  still 
continued  the  prey  of  dejection,  she  had  recourse 
to  innumerable  innocent  little  arts,  for  the  purpose 
of  inducing  a  contrary  belief,  of  persuading  him 
that  her  hours  of  solitude  were  not  all  passed  in 
the  indulgence  of  melancholy.  Sometimes  she  re- 
turned with  a  sketch  of  forest  scenery,  or  of  some 
striking  feature  in  the  landscape ;  sometimes  with 
a  collection  of  herb?,  or,  as  the  poet  says,  '  what 
(he  dull  incurious,  weeds  account;'  sometimes  with 
various  passages  marked  in  a  poem,  illustrative  of 
the  scenes  amidst  which  she  had  been  wandering. 

Straying  one  day  farther  than  she  had  before 
been,  she  suddenly  found  herself  in  a  romantic 
glade,  at  once  so  retired  and  beautiful,  as'  involun- 
tarily to  cause  her  to  pause :  nothing  could  surpass 
the  fineness  of  the  verdure,  and  which,  struck  as  it 
was  at  the  moment  by  the  rays  of  the  morning  sun, 
formed  an  admirable  contrast  to  the  deep  gloom  of 
Ihe  contiguous  and  far- receding  shades,  diversified 
with  trees  of  every  growth,  alike,  yet  various ;  a 
silvery  riil  meandered  amidst  the  intertwisted 
roots  ;  and  couched  beneath  a  grassy  hillock  was 
a  low  hermitage,  overshadowed  by  one  of  the 
mightiest,  the  most  magnificent  oaks  Angeline  had 
ever  seen,  and  which,  from  the  grandeur  of  its  di- 
mensions, immediately  recalled  to  her  recollection 
the  poet's  description  of  this  sovereign  of  the 
woods  ; — 

*  His  wide-extended  limbs  the  forest  drown'd, 
Shading  its  trees  as  much  33  Uiey  the  ground  ; 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  129 

Young  murm'ring  tempests  in  his  boughs  are  bred, 
And  gathering  clouds  frown  round  his  lofty  head  ; 
Outrageous  thunder,  stormy  winds,  and  rain, 
Discharge  their  fury  on  his  head  in  vain  ; 
Earthquakes  below,  and  lightning  from  above, 
Rend  not  his  trunk,  nor  his  fix'd  root  remove.' 

Examining  the  cell,  the  following  pencilled  lines 
within  it,  in  the  hand  of  her  father,  caught  her  eye, 
and  convincing  her  of  its  being  a  favourite  retreat 
of  his,  strengthened  the  inclination  she  felt  to  take 
a  sketch  of  the  spot,  for  the  sake  of  having  a  draw- 
ing of  the  beautiful  oak  :  — 

In  this  lone  cell,  his  hopes  overthrown, 

Each  fond  delusive  prospect  fled, 
When  hid,  each  dell  and  leafy  bow'r, 

O'er  all  a  sadd'njng  gloom  is  spread, 

A  wretched  wand'rer  lores  to  weep, 
Where  seems  the  passing  gale  to  moan, 

When  darkness  veils  the  beetling  steep, 
And  cold  dews  wet  the  rugged  stone. 

Retreating  to  a  proper  distance,  she  seated  her- 
self on  a  felled  tree,  and  quickly  succeeded  in  tak- 
ing the  intended  sketch  ;  returning  then  immedi- 
ately home,  she  hastily  coloured  it,  and  seeking 
her  father,  presented  it  to  him  with  a  smile,  and 
request  to  know  whether  there  was  any  place  it  re- 
minded him  of  ?  A  glance  sufficed  to  let  him  an- 
swer her  in  the  affirmative.  Delighted  with  the  ac- 
curacy of  the  sketch,  the  richness  of  the  colouring, 
he  protested  lord  Hexham  must  see  it  —  must  be 
gratified  with  seeing  what  an  admirable  drawing 
she  had  made  of  his  favourite  oak,  which  he  had 
often  declared  worthy  of  equal  honours  with  that 
of  Hainault. 

Angeline  made  a  faint  effort  to  oppose  this  in- 
Mention,  but  a  vain  one.  She  then  entreated  to  be 


M 


130  MONASTERY  OF   ST.  COLIJMB. 

allowed  to  re-examine  and  retouch  it ;  but  in  this 
also  she  failed  ;  Clanronel  was  too  impatient  to  ex- 
hibit it,  to  hearken  to  any  thing  that^could  occasion 
this  to  be  delayed  a  minute,  anoaccordingly  al- 
most ran  off  with  it  to  the  Abbey.  Admitting 
himself  by  a  door  in  the  cloisters,  opening  on  the 
private  staircase  leading  to  the  apartments  of  lord 
Hexham,  he  ascended  to  them  unannounced.  The 
day  being  sultry,  the  intermediate  doors  were  all 
lying  open,  so  that  he  had  nearly  a  view  from  one 
end  of  the  suite  to  the  other.  In  consequence, 
just  as  he  entered  the  outer  room,  he  beheld  his 
young  friend  hastily  retreating  from  a  further  one, 
into  an  adjoining  closet.  Concluding,  however, 
that  he  did  not  know  whose  approach  it  was  he 
heard,  he  continued  to  advance.  The  windows  of 
the  apartment  thus  suddenly  vacated  were  all  open? 
and  just  as  he  set  his  foot  within  it,  a  paper  came 
blown  towards  him  by  the  air.  He  took  it  up, 
and  was  about  placing  it  under  a  book,  when 
chancing  to  glance  at  it,  he  became  nearly  motion- 
less with  astonishment,  at  beholding  an  admirable, 
though  evidently  hastily  executed  likeness  of  An- 
geline,  sketched  in  the  attitude  of  making  the 
drawing  he  had  brought  along  with  him.  But  as- 
(onhhment  was  not  the  only  emotion  it  excited; 
equal  at  the  moment  was  his  pleasure  to  his  sur- 
prise, from  the  conviction  it  afforded  of  Angeline 
having  been  seen  by  his  young  friend,  and  seen 
with  the  admiration  he  wished. 

While  his  eyes  -were  fastened  on  it,  the  door  of 
I  he  interior  chamber  opened,  and  lord  Hexham 
i:ame  forth ;  he  was  eagerly  advancing  to  shake 
hands  with  him,  when  seeing  how  he  was  employ- 
ed, lie  suddenly  stopped,  drew  back  for  an  instant, 
again  stepping  forward,  made  an  eflbrt  to 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  ISi 

take  the  paper  from  him,  exclaiming — '  Good  Hea- 
vens !  how  did  that  come  into  your  hands  ?  I 
thought  1  had  put  aside  all  the  papers  in  the  port- 
folio/ 

'  Why  by  means  of  a  kind  zephyr,  more  oblig- 
ing than  you  would  have  been,  1  make  no  doubt/ 
returned  Clanronel, '  for  I  arn  persuaded  you  would 
not  have  let  me  know  you  saw  my  little  girl ;  but 
why,  now,  when  you  had  such  an  opportunity,  not 
introduce  yourself  to  her  ?  She  would  have  been 
so  pleased.' 

'  Pleased  !'  involuntarily  repeated  Hexham, 
with  an  emphasis  that  must  have  struck  Clanronel 
as  rather  strange,  had  not  his  attention  been  too 
much  engrossed,  at  the  moment,  to  permit  him  to 
mind  it. 

'  Yes,  pleased ;  but  don't  grow  conceited  be- 
cause I  say  so;  for  remember,  and  be  suitably 
grateful,  'tis  only  from  my  favourable  report  she  is 
anxious  to  know  you.  But  come,  confess  the  truth ; 
was  your  not  presenting  yourself  to  her  owing  to 
your  thinking,  after  this  long  indisposition,  you  did 
not  look  quite  so  charming  as  you  could  wish  ?  but 
only  let  her  see  you,  blushing  as  you  do  now,  and 
my  life  for  it,  she  deems  yoa  handsome  enough.— 
Why  even  that  puppy  Mountbrilliant,  with  all  his 
conceit,  would  be  inclined  to  envy  you,  if  he  saw 
you  this  moment.  Come,  come,  as  you  have 
been  out  once  to-day  to  oblige  yourself,  you  shall 
come  out  again  to  oblige  me :  we'll  dine  early  on 
your  account,  and  return  to  tea  with  you/ 

'  Excuse  me,'  said  lord  Hexham,  in  extreme  agi- 
tation, and  disengaging  his  arm,  which  he  had  tak- 
en, '  'tis  really  not  in  my  power  to  accompany 
you/ 

'  Not !'  repeated  ClanroneJ, '  and  why  so  ?  but  I 


132  MONASTERY  OP  ST.  COLUMB. 

shall  take  no  excuse  I  assure  you.  I  quite  enjor 
the  idea  of  the  surprise  it  will  be  to  Angeline,  my 
bringing  you  wiih  me/ 

'  Surprise  P  cried  lord  Hexham ;  '  good  God !' 

'  Why  yes :  is  there  any  thing  terrific  in  the 
idea,  that  you  look  so  wild  ?' 

'  No,  certainly  not/  faltered  out  Hexham ;  *  but, 
in  short,  I  am  compelled  to  repeat  you  must  excuse 
me,  and  to  add,  that  i  shall  esteem  it  an  obligation 
your  not  mentioning  to  any  one  my  having  been 
out  this  day.  1  have  the  most  important  reasons 
for  the  request/ 

*  Well,  I  certainly  shall  not  act  contrary  to  your 
wishes  in  either  instance  ;  but/  surveying  him  with 
earnestness,  '  I  cannot  avoid  telling  you,  my  dear 
fellow,  that  I  really  am  beginning  to  think  you, 
what  I  never  diet  before,  a  little  whimsical,  since 
able  to  make  the  exertion  of  going  out,  what,  in  the 
name  of  Heaven,  can  be  your  motive  ?  but  1  will 
not  put  questions  the  anticipation  of  which  has,  I 
see,  distressed  you.  But  though  1  wont  question, 
I  can't  avoid  threatening;  you  know  there's  an  old 
saying,  '  If  Mahomet  "wont  come  to  the  mountain, 
&c.'  so  if  you  don't  soon  make  your  appearance  in 
the  social  circle  again,  I  give  you  timely  notice  you 
may,  some  day  or  other,  expect  to  see  me  walking 
in  to  you,  with  Angeline  in  my  hand  ' 

'  Oh,  good  God,  I  hope  not !'  involuntarily  ex- 
claimed the  alarmed  Hexham. 

Clanronel laughed. — >'  Hope  not!'  he  repeated; 
'  why  even  if  the  visit  was  mal  apropos,  is  there 
no  convenient  screen  at  hand  behind  which  a  little 
French  milliner  might  be  popped  in  a  moment  ? 
but  come/  shaking  hands  with  him,  *  I  won't  teaze 

¥3U  any  longer ;    invalids,  I  know,  are  pettish. — 
here  (presenting  it  to  him)  is  the  sketch  you  saw 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  133 

Angelina  taking ;  you  may  keep  it  as  a  recompence 
for  the  ope  I  am  going  to  deprive  you  of/ 

f  Why  you  have  no  klea  of  shewing  that  to  Miss 
Clanronel  ?' 

'  Indeed  but  f  have ;  I  shall  like  to  see  bow 
she'll  blush  when  she  learns  that  all  the  time  she 
imagined  herself  unobserved,  you  were  gazing  on 
her/ 

*  Nay,  I  cannot  allow  of  such  a  thing,'  Said  lord 
Hexham ;  and  suddenly  wresting  it  from  him,  he 
crushed  it  in  his  hand,  and  threw  it  into  the  fire- 
place. 

'  This  is  rather  disobliging/  cried  Clanronel,  in 
a  tone  of  evident  pique. 

'  Nay,  pardon  me/  said  Hexham,  hurt  to  the 
soul  at  being  compelled  to  act  so  contrary  to  his 
natural  feelings  ;  '  you  must  not  leave  me  in  dis- 
pleasure. My  vanity/  trying  to  soften  the  re- 
sentment he  saw  he  had  inspired, '  would  not  allow 
me  to  let  Miss  Clanronel  see  the  little  justice  1  had 
ability  to  do  her/ 

Clanronel,  however,  was  too  seriously  vexed  to 
be  prevailed  on  readily  to  forgive  him  ;  at  length, 
yielding  to  his  importunities,  he  promised  to  think 
no  more  of  the  matter ;  and  shaking  hands  with 
him,  with  his  usual  air  of  cordiality,  soon  after  de- 
parted. 

Passing  through  the  cloisters  again,  he  encoun- 
tered the  marchioness  and  lady  Mara  returning 
from  a  walk,  and  who  would  not  let  him  leave  them, 
till  he  had  promised  to  come  back  to  dinner  with 
Angeline. 

The  communication  he  made  to  Angeline  had 
the  effect  of  painting  her  cheeks  with  all  those 
beautiful  blushes  he  had  anticipated  from  it :  she 
could  not  indeed  hear  of  having  been  the  object  of 


134  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLlTMB. 

lord  Hexham  s  secret  observation — lord  Hexham 
described  so  interesting  as  to  have  excited  an  in- 
voluntary wish  for  his  esteem,  without  extreme 
agitation  and  confusion.  Her  father  augured  fa- 
vourably, from  these  blushes,  to  his  hopes,  little 
aware  of  their  being  owing  to  a  mixed  emotion,  a 
pleasurable  sensation,  which  she  condemned  her- 
self for  feeling — an  agonizing  reflection,  which  she 
shrunk  from  dwelling  on. 


CHAP.  XI. 

Floating  in  a  flood  of  ca-re, 
This  way  and  that  she  turns  her  anxious  mind-i 
Thinks  and  rejects  the  counsel  she  design'd  ; 
Explores  herself  in  ev'ry  part, 
And  gives  no  rest  to  her  distracted  heart. 


A  SELECT  party  dined  this  day  at  the  Abbey.  On 
quitting  the  dining  room,  instead  of  repairing  with 
the  marchioness  and  the  other  ladies  to  the  draw- 
ing room,  the  lively  lady  Mara  and  Angeline  turn- 
ed into  the  cloisters,  faintly  illumined  with  the  re- 
.  ceding  beams  of  the  evening  sun. 

After  allowing  her  sufficient  time,  lest  an  ap- 
pearance of  impatience  should  beget  suspicion,  to 
gratify  her  curiosity  by  an  examination  of  the  cu- 
rious inscriptions  and  engravings  on  the  monumen- 
tal stones  that  here  composed  the  pavement,  lady 
Mara,  agreeably  to  a  preconcerted  plan  of  her  own, 
led  her  companion  to  the  gallery  in  which  were  si- 
tuated the  apartments  occupied  by  lord  Hexham  ; 
and  in  pointing  out  to  her  the  various  pictures  and 
statues  that  embellished  it,  drew  her  almost  inset!-. 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COlUMB. 

sibly  towards  the  door  opening  to  them. — '  That 
head/  she  began,  directing  her  attention  to  a  bust, 
f  is  said  to  have  been  found  in  the  baths,  which, 
together  with  his  gardens  near  the  Pantheon, 
Agrippa  bequeathed  to  the  Roman  people,  but  of 
which  the  antiquarian  now  in  vain  seeks  for  some 
trace.  This  beautiful  fawn  is  also  supposed  to  have 
belonged  to  the  still  more  magnificent  Thermae 
Dioclesanae.  That  Bacchante  is  a  copy,  by  an 
ancient  artist,  of  the  celebrated  one  in  the  Vatican 
Museum  ;  and  this  beautiful  nymph,  appearing  as 
if  dancing  to  the  pipe  of  the  fawn,  a  precious  an- 
tique from  Greece ;  but  within/  softly  laying  her 
hand  upon  the  door  of  her  brother's  apartment- 
ment,  '  is  a  piece  of  workmanship  I  must  not  for- 
get to  show  you — a  statue  that  without  any  thing 
of  antiquity  to  recommend  it,  is  still  pronounced 
worthy  of  notice ;  but  you  shall  judge  whether  it 
might  not  be  considered  ornamental,  at  least  in  a 
lady's  boudoir/  throwing  open  the  door  as  she 
spoke,  and  bolting  in,  followed  by  her  unconscious 
companion. 

Somewhat  startled  by  this  intrusion,  lord  Hex- 
ham  raised  his  eyes  from  the  book  with  which  he 
was  engrossed  at  the  moment,  to  see  who  it  was 
that  had  made  so  unceremonious  an  entree ;  per- 
ceiving, he  was  on  the  point  of  requesting  her 
little  ladyship  to  be  less  abrupt  for  the  future, 
when  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  Angeline ;  he  had  but 
just  time  to  snatch  up  his  handkerchief  from  the 
arm  of  the  couch  on  which  he  was  reclining,  and 
apply  it  to  his  face,  ere  she  stood  before  him  ;  what 
he  felt  at  the  moment  may  easier  be  conceived  than 
described :  the  conscious  awkwardness  of  his  situ- 
ation heightened  not  a  little  his  agitation ;  motion- 
ing for  Angeline  to  take  a  seat,  he  kept  bowing  and 


136  MONASTERY    OP    ST.    COLUMB. 

drawing  back  towards  the  door  of  an  inner  apart- 
ment, till  finally  enabled  to  retreat.  The  moment 
he  had  disappeared,  lady  Mara,  throwing  herself 
on  the  seat  she  had  occasioned  him  so  suddenly  to 
vacate,  declared,  with  a  laugh,  and  an  effort  to  pull 
Angeline  beside  her,  she  quite  enjoyed  the  idea  of 
the  surprise  she  had  caused  him. 

'  It  may  be  very  amusing  to  you/  said  the  in- 
dignant Angeline,  a  little  recovering  from  the  con- 
fusion into  which  she  had  been  thrown,  and  which 
had  had  the  effect  of  absolutely  depriving  her,  for 
a  minute,  of  the  power  of  motion  f  '  but  pardon 
me  for  saying  it  is  by  no  means  equally  so  to  me  : 
good  Heavens  !  lady  Mara,  how  could  you  think  of 
such  a  thing  ?  depend  on  it,  for  this  trick  you  shall 
never  be  my  cicerone  again/ 

'  Nay,  I  am  sure  you  wont  be  so  unforgiving/ 
aaid  lady  Mara,  following  her  Out,  '  Upon  my  ho- 
nour, what  1  did  was  out  of  real  good  nature.  1 
had  heard,  in  certain  cases,  of  electricity  being 
serviceable,  and  so  I  determined  to  try  its  effect 
upon  Hexham/ 

'  Well,  I  request,  when  you  have  an  inclination 
to  try  the  experiment  again,  1  may  not  be  made 
the  instrument/ 

Oh  dear,  nothing  but  a  very  powerful  one  would 
have  answered  the  purpose.  Had  I  made  choice 
of  lady  Bridget  Hardcastle,  or  any  other  of  the 
party  mamma  has  now  with  her,  the  effect  would 
not,  by  any  means,  have  been  the  same  on  him/ 

Angeline  with  difficulty  forbore  smiling — '  Ne- 
vertheless/ said  she,  '  1  shan't  readily  forgive 
you/ 

'  Nay,  but  I  know  you  will/  in  a  coaxing  voice, 
and  looking  in  her  face,  as  she  rested  her  arm  on 
her  shoulder  ;  '  yes,  1  can  see,  by  that  lurking  smile 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  IS? 

at  the  corner  of  your  mouth,  and  that  beautiful 
blush,  so  like  the  one  I  could  see  on  the  cheek  of 
Hexham,  notwithstanding  the  application  of  his 
handkerchief,  that  you  are  not  so  angry  as  you 
pretend.' 

'  Blush/  repeated  Angeline,  involuntarily  ex- 
tremely confused  at  the  inference  she  seemed  to 
draw  from  it ;  '  how  can  i  help  blushing  at  the 
idea  of  what  your  brother  may  think  ?' 

Ah !  I  am  convinced  he'll  never  be  able  to-think 
any  thing  to  your  disadvantage ;  and,  ere  long,  I 
hope  he'll  be  at  your  elbow,  to  tell  you  so  himself/ 

'  Let  the  subject  drop,'  said  Angeline,  sli!l  more 
confused — confused  by  the  undefinable  sensation 
oxcited  in  her  mind  by  the  idea  of  lord  Hexham, 
an  idea  rendered  still  more  interesting  by  the  like- 
ness she  had  an  opportunity  of  ascertaining  he  bore 
to  Villiers  ;  '  all  I  shall  further  observe  relative  to 
it  is,  that  you  really  have  very  much  discomposed 
me,  by  what  you  have  done/ 

*  Indeed !  well,  now  that  I  look  at  you  again,  I 
believe  I  have,  for  1  see  your  colour  changes  ;  here, 
take  my  eau-de-luce,  and  if  that  wont  do,  I'll  run 
and  get  you  some  sal  volatile — '  the  sovereign- 
est  thing  on  earth,'  Mountbrilliant  says  for  the 
Spirits/ 

Angeline  thankecl  her ;  but  as  she  now  hastened 
from  the  gallery,  fearful,  if  she  longer  delayed,  of 
some  other  trick  being  played  her,  said  there  was 
no  necessity. 

In  the  cloisters  lady  Mara  again  stopt  her,  for 
the  purpose  of  enjoining  silence  relative  to  what 
had  passed  above  in  the  drawing  room  ;  declaring, 
if  mama  knew  it,  it  would  be  the  means  of  occa- 
sioning her  a  lecture,  which  was,  of  all  things,  what 
she  most  disliked. 

VOL.  ii.  .    N 


138  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

'  And  which  1  am  inclined  to  think  now  and  then 
very  necessary/  said  Angelina,  laughingly,  '  for 
Indeed  I  am  tempted  to  believe  your  ladyship  a 
very  mischievous  little  girl/ 

Lady  Mara,  in  the  same  strain,  as  she  led  the 
way  to  the  drawing  room,  assured  her  to  the  con- 
trary. 

After  tea,  .finding  themselves  at  liberty  to  amuse 
themselves  as  they  pleased,  they  repaired  to  the 
piano,  accompanied  by  lord  Mountbrilliant,  who, 
indeed,  wherever  lady  Mara  was  seen,  was  almost 
sure  of  being  found  moving,  like  an  inferior  planet, 
in  her  orbit.  After  playing  several  delightful  duos 
together,  lady  Mara,  suddenly  rising,  requested 
Angeline  to  favour  them  with  a  Spanish  air  on  the 
guitar.  She  complied,  charming  her  attentive  au- 
ditors with  the  sweetness  of  her  tones :  the  last 
cadence  was  dying  away,  sweetly  mingling  with 
the  silvery  sound  of  the  vibrating  chords,  when 
she  was  startled  by  a  heavy  sigh  behind  her  — 
f  Good  Heaven !'  she  exclaimed,  with  a  look  of 
wildness,  and  almost  starting  from  her  seat,  '  who 
was  it  that  sighed  so  ?' 

'  Sighed !'  repeated  the  viscount,  with  a  vacant 
look,  as  if  starting  from  a  delightful  trance ;  *  here 
is  no  visible  being  but  ourselves  ;  it  must  be  some 
faint  echo  of  your  own  enchanting  strains  you 
heard.' 

*  No,  no/  replied  Angeline,  again  glancing  be- 
hind her,  '  I   am  positive  I  was  not  mistaken ;  I 
did  not  merely  hear,  but  also,  I  may  say,  feel  the 
sigh,  for  it  was  absolutely  breathed  upon  my  very 
neck/ 

*  Hush/  said  lady  Mara,  in  a  whisper,  as,  under 
the  pretext  of  looking  for  some  music,  she  stooped 
down  j  '  it  was  Hexham  you  heard ;  immediately 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  139 

behind  your  chair  is  one  of  those  numerous  dark 
passages  with  which  this  ancient  edifice  abounds, 
and  from  which  I  have  this  instant  caught  a  glimpse 
of  him  gliding  away.' 

Angeline  directly  rose  and  moved  to  another 
part  of  the  room  :  trembling  with  emotion,  an  emo- 
tion heightened  by  her  dread  of  its  being  disco- 
vered, she  threw  herself  oil  a  window-seat,  which 
commanding  a  view  of  the  magnificent  woods  now 
beautifullly  chequered  by  the  light  of  a  full -orbed 
moon,  afforded  her  a  pretext  for  averting  her  looks. 
She  knew  not  how  to  account  for  the  effect  lord 
Hexham's  conduct  had  upon  her — his  at  once  ap- 
pearing to  seek  and  shun  her,  except  by  imputing 
it  to  some  secret  presentiment  of  a  more  intimate 
acquaintance  with  her  proving  productive  of  un- 
happiness  to  him.  The  idea  subdued  her  to  tears  ; 
and  throwing  up  the  sash,  she  bent  from  the  win- 
dow, in  order  to  Conceal  them ;  but  a  pair  of  keen- 
ly-penetrating eyes  was  on  her — lady  Mara,  with- 
out her  being  conscious  of  it,  was  at  her  elbow, 
and  now  leaning  out  of  the  window  along  with  her, 
declared  she  must  have  the  flowers  in  her  bosom. 
Angeline  demanded  why,  as,  with  seeming  care- 
lessness, she  slightly  touched  her  eyes  with  her 
handkerchief.  '  Why,  for  a  present  for  Hexham/ 
returned  her  lively  ladyship ;  'the  tear  1  saw  fall 
upon  them  will  render  them  inestimable  in  his 
sight ;  fof  not  even  sir  Charles  Grandison  more 
admired  the  dew-drops  of  sensibility,  than  he  does. 
Come,  1  must  have  them  ;'  and  ere  she  could  make 
an  effort  to  prevent  her,  she  snatched  them  from 
her  bosom. 

Confused  and  agitated  by  the  idea  of  her  emo- 
tion being  mentioned  to  lord  Hexham,  or  rather  of 
the  surmises  it  might  cause,  Angeline  tried,  but  io 


140         MONASTERY    Of    ST.    COLUMB. 

vain  lo  recover  them,  under  the  hope  that  if  she 
had  nothing  to  remind  her  of  it,  lady  Mara  would 
think  no  more  of  the  circumstance ;  she  persisted 
in  keeping  them,  declaring  they  would  answer  for 
the  peace-offering  she  must  have  for  her  brother 
against  their  next  meeting. 

Good  Heavens !  how  considerably  did  these 
words  tend  to  heighten  the  agitation  of  Angeline, 
from  the  inference  they  allowed  her  to  draw  from 
them !  H  ad  she  then  been  represented  in  such  a 
manner  to  lord  Hexham  as  to  induce  him  to  set  a 
value  on  any  thing  belonging  to  her  ?  Oh  no,  she 
hoped  not,  she  trusted  not,  for  the  sake  of  the  hap- 
piness, the  peace  of  so  interesting  a  being.  Yes, 
sweet  as  she  felt  to  her  heart  would  be  the  idea  of 
possessing  his  esteem,  yet  a  thousand  times  rather 
did  she  feel  she  would  forego  it,  than  obtain  it  at 
the  expense  of  any  thing  like  his  tranquillity. 

But  how  faint  was  the  emotion  she  experienced 
on  this  occasion,  though  such  as  quickened  every 
throbbing  pulse,  compared  to  that  she  felt  the  en- 
suing day,  when,  on  joining  her  in  her  dressing- 
room  after  a  long  visit  from  the  marquis  in  his  study, 
her  father,  with  a  flush  upon  his  cheek  that  gave 
animation  to  every  feature,  and  uncommon  expres- 
sion to  his  eyes,  informed  her,  with  a  kiss,  that  the 
marquis  had  been  with  him  that  morning  for  the 
purpose  of  making  an  overture  of  the  most  interest- 
ing nature  to  him,  '  After  saying  this,  need  1  en- 
ter into  any  explanation  ?'  he  added,  looking  with 
.smiling  significance  in  her  face  ;  is  it  necessary  to 
intimate  it  is  for  an  alliance  between  our  families  ? 
lord  Hexham  empowered  him  to  make  knownjiis 
reciprocal  wish  for  it ;  and,  in  the  course  of  a  few 
days,  hopes  to  be  able  to  give  utterance  to  it  him- 
self in  person. —  But  what's  the  matter,  my  love, 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  141 

you  look  so  pale  ?  I  fear  I  have  been  too  abrupt ; 
but  this  is  always  the  case  when  I  am  overjoyed ; 
'  out  of  the  fulness  of  the  heart,'  they  say  '  the 
mouth  speaketh :'  when  1  have  any  thing  pleasant 
to  communicate,  I  cannot,  for  the  life  of  me,  set 
about  the  disclosure  in  a  circuitous  manner ;  yet  I 
am  a  little  surprised  at  seeing  you  so  agitated,  since 
surely,  from  all  I.  said,  the  hints  1  gave,  the  manner 
in  which  I  spoke  of  lord  Hexham,  you  might  have 
suspected  there  was  something  of  the  kind  in  con- 
templation.' 

'  1  tried  not  to  do  so/  said  the  almost  petrified 
Angeline,  involuntarily. 

'  What,  for  fear  of  being  disappointed  ?'  smiling, 
and  again  kissing  her  cheek;  '  well ,  well,  1  don't 
know  ;  but  too  much  humility  is  nearly  as 
bad  as  too  much  vanity;  but  come,  1  can  see 
by  your  looks  you  would  not  be  sorry  to  be  left  a 
little  while  to  yourself ;  so  I'll  intrude  no  longer  for 
the  present,  than  merely  to  tell  you  the  Pontefract 
family  dine  here  to-day/ 

Angeliue  started. — *  What,  the  whole  of  the  fam- 
ily ?'  she  demanded,  almost  gasping. 

'  No,  no  ;  lord  Hexham  is  not  yet  sufficiently  re- 
covered to  dine  abroad  ;  but  as  I  was  about  observ- 
ing, as  I  have  given  the  marquis  to  understand 
there  is  but  little  danger  of  his  overture  being  de- 
clined, pray  put  on  such  a  countenance  against  the 
arrival  of  our  guests,  as  may  tend  to  strengthen  the 
pleasing  hope  I  have  inspired.' 

Angeline  bowed ;  to  speak  at  the  moment  was 
impossible ;  and  telling  her  the  hour  at  which  she 
might  expect  a  summons  to  the  drawing-room,  he 
retired. 

The  moment  he  was  gone,  the  pent-up  anguish 
of  Angeline's  distracted  bosom  burst  forth;  she 
N  2 


142  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

wrung  her  hands,  and  raised  her  eyes  despairingly 
to  heaven, — '  Oh  good  God  !'  she  exclaimed, 
'  what  will  become  of  me  ? — by  what  means  shall  I 
be  enabled  to  extricate  myself  from  the  difficulties 
that  surround  me .?  Am  1  doomed  to  the  terrible 
task  of  dissimulating  for  ever  !  must  1  act  so  as  to 
strengthen  a  hope  that  never,  never  can  be  real- 
ized !  Oh  my  friend — my  second  father !'  she  pro- 
ceeded, apostrophizing  the  absent  St.  Huth, '  would 
that  thou  wert  now  here  !  I  should  not  then  feel  so 
utterly  dismayed — so  forlorn  as  I  now  do;  for  thou, 
if  any  one,  would  be  able  to  guide  me  through  this 
sea  of  difficulties,  without  utter  shipwreck.  Yes  ; 
though  to  obtain  thy  counsel  1  must  humble  myself 
in  thy  sight,  still  would  I  do  so,  for  the  purpose  in 
full  confidence,  that  though  the  error  must  be  con- 
demned the  sufferer  would  be  commiserated.  Un- 
happy father  !  ah,  how  little  art  thou  aware  of  the 
galling  chain  already  imposed  on  the  hand  so  fondly 
destined  by  thee  for  another  !  ah,  how  little  that,  to 
thy  miserable  daughter,  every  door  of  domestic  hap- 
piness and  enjoyment  is  for  ever  closed !  Oh, Villiers, 
what  have  you  made  me  suffer !  but  for  you,  how 
bright,  how  felicitous  might  my  prospects,  at  this 
moment,  be  ?  but  for  you,  it  might  be  my  blessed 
lot  to  have  become  one  of  this  family  of  harmony 
and  love  !  yet  Heaven  can  attest,  that  if  the  an- 
guish that  now  rives  my  heart  was  occasioned  but 
by  a  mere  participation  with  thee  in  the  calamities 
life  is  liable  to,  not  a  sigh  at  our  union  would  ever 
have  escaped  me.  But  why  cannot  1  summon 
sufficient  courage  to  throw  myself  at  the  feet  of  my 
father,  and  confess  to  him  the  fatal  truth — confess 
to  him  the  secret  that  throbs  in  my  breast,  that  robs 
my  cheek  of  colour,  my  brow  of  serenity  ? — Yet 
no.  no  !'  she  wiklly  added,  recoiling  a  few  paces,  as 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  143 

if  she  actually  saw  embodied  the  terrible  images 
,her  fancy  conjured  up  to  her  at  the  idea  ;  ( oh,  no  ! 
never  could  1  support  the  sight  of  the  agonies  the 
confession  would  occasion — the  haggard  expression 
of  his  countenance,  when  he  should  hear  what  a 
wretch  I  was/ 

And  yet,  by  withholding  it,  she  was  aware  she 
should  only  be  able  to  save  him  from  greater  pain  ; 
for  how  much  must  he  be  hurt,  she  reflected,  by 
the  suspicion  which  her  rejection  of  lord  Hex- 
ham  must  excite,  either  of  her  being  improperly  at- 
tached, or  else  insensible  of  real  merit! 

'  Turn  which  way  I  will,  therefore,'  she  said,  1 1 
see  no  hope  of  any  alleviation  of  anguish  :  gloomy 
and  affecting  images  alone  meet  my  view;  but 
something  must  be  decided  on.  With  that  pro- 
pensity, however,  which  we  all  have  to  put  off  a 
disagreeable  decision  as  long  as  possible,  she  re- 
solved on  not  coming  to  a  determination  till  there 
was  an  absolute  necessity  for  her  doing  so,  which 
she  supposed  would  not  be  the  case  till  an  introduc- 
tion had  taken  place  between  her  and  lord  Hexham. 

Languidly  she  prepared  for  the  reception  of  the 
expected  guests.  Their  looks  and  manner,  kinder 
and  more  affectionate  than  ever — the  sly  inuendoes 
and  arch  smiles  of  lady  Mara,  all  tended  to  deepen 
her  dread  of  being  entangled  in  such  a  way,  with 
regard  to  lord  Hexham,  as  would  render  abso- 
lutely necessary  the  adoption  of  some  painful  reso- 
lution. 

Of  the  equal  wretchedness  of  his  feelings  she 
was  little  aware — of  the  conflicts  in  her  bosom  be- 
ing, if  possible,  surpassed  by  those  of  his  :  such  was 
the  case,  however  ;  he  could  not  reflect  on  having 
had  recourse  to  artifice — on  having  acted  with  de- 
ception towards  his  father,  without  a  feeling  of  re* 


144  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

morse — a  humiliating  sense  of  degradation,  that 
rendered  still  more  acute  his  misery.  The  marquis, 
at  length  led  to  believe,  from  a  variety  of  circum- 
stances, his  secluding  himself  from  society  owing 
to  some  other  cause  than  mere  indisposition,  could 
no  longer  forbear  coming  to  an  explanation  with 
him  on  the  subject ;  equally  grieved  and  indignant 
at  the  idea  suggested  by  this  belief,  of  his  being  still 
the  slave  of  an  unworthy  attachment ;  or  else  reso- 
lutely bent  on  still  disappointing  his  views  respect- 
ing him. 

The  explicitness  with  which  he  revealed  his  sen- 
timents gave  the  unhappy  Hexham  clearly  to  see 
there  was  no  means  of  removing  his  suspicions,  but  by 
a  seeming  acquiescence  in  his  wishes.  Embarrass- 
ed beyond  description,  he  paced  the  room  with 
disordered  steps,  unknowing  how  to  act,  yet 
shrinking  from  the  thought  of  incurring  the  resent- 
ment of  a  parent  so  truly  loved. 

At  length,  as  a  means  of  extricating  himself  from 
his  present  dilemma,  he  suddenly  decided  on  ap- 
pearing to  accede  to  his  wishes,  under  the  firm  per- 
suasion of  the  prompt  refusal  of  Angeline  prevent- 
ing the  measure  from  involving  him  in  any  new 
difficulty ;  for  though  it  seemed  evident  to  him 
that  she  meant  carefully  to  conceal  her  marriage, 
he  could  not  for  a  moment  bring  himself  to  believe 
she  ever  meant  to  forget  it.  But  so  revolting  to  a 
mind  of  real  candour,  so  humbling,  so  embarrass- 
ing is  the  idea  of  a  deviation  from  sincerity,  that 
not  the  motive  to  which  his  departure  from  it  was 
owing,  nor  yet  the  happiness  he  saw  resulting  to  his 
father  from  the  false  belief  he  had  imposed  upon  him, 
could,  in  any  degree,  reconcile  him  to  it.  He  sighed 
when  he  declared  that  he  had  rendered  him  the  hap- 
piest of  happy  fathers,  by  his  allowing  him  to  make 


MONASTERY   OF  ST.  €OLUMB.  145 

a«  overture  for  the  alliance  on  which  his  heart  was 
set ;  and  blushed  on  his  adding  he  should  not  read- 
ily pardon  himself  for  having  given  way,  for  a  min- 
ute, to  a  suspicion  to  his  prejudice,  though  so  jus- 
tified by  appearances,  that  to  others,  perhaps,  it 
might  appear  excusable.  The  fact  was,  he  had, 
at  length,  discovered  that  lord  Hexham  was  in  the 
habit  of  frequently  leaving  his  apartments  for 
hours  at  a  time ;  and,  in  consequence,  could  not 
forbear  considering  his  indisposition  more  an  ideal 
than  real  one,  or  rather  a  mere  pretext  for  avoiding 
the  society  he  wished  him  introduced  to. 

A  similar  suspicion,  owing  to  a  similar  discovery, 
was  the  cause  of  lady  Mara's  playing  the  trick 
which  had  occasioned  him  and  Angeline  so  much 
confusion  and  agitation.  From  knowing  he  was 
not  always  to  be  found  in  his  apartments,  she  could 
not  help  shrewdly  suspecting  his  appearing  to  con- 
fine himself  to  them  entirely  owing  to  some  capri- 
cious dislike  to  the  projected  alliance  between  him 
and  Angeline,  a  dislike  which,  conceiving  it  impos- 
sible for  him  to  retain  if  he  but  once  saw  her,  she 
determined  on  devising  a  plan  for  secretly  intro- 
ducing them  to  each  other,  a  determination  which, 
as  we  have  seen,  she  carried  into  effect. 

But  Clanronel  was  by  no  means  so  happy,  by 
110  means  so  satisfied  as  he  affected  to  be — affected 
to  be  for  the  purpose  of  trying  to  impress  the  mind 
of  Angeline  with  a  belief  of  his  dreading  no  disap- 
pointment, under  the  hope  of  such  a  persuasion 
being  a  means  of  inducing  her  to  acquiesce  in  his 
wishes.  Her  looks,  her  manner,  her  broken  sen- 
tences, on  theij:  avowal,  all,  all  inspired  apprehen- 
sions of  the  most  painful  nature — apprehensions  he 
felt  himself  so  utterly  unable  to  endure,  that,  on  the 
following  inorniog,  he  resolved  on  coming  to  a  still 


146  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

fuller  explanation  with  her ;  and  receiving  either  an 
explicit  answer  relative  to  the  proposal  made  for 
her  hand,  or  else  an  assurance  of  an  immediate  de- 
liberation on  it. 

Hoping  for  some  little  respite  from  agitation,  to 
remain  unsolicited  on  the  subject,  at  least  till  after 
the  introduction  of  lord  Hexham,  IK>W  great  was 
the  shock  sustained  by  Angeline,  on  hearing  her- 
self suddenly  addressed  upon  it ! 

Her  changing  countenance  too  evidently  de- 
monstrated to  her  father  what  she  felt,  not  to  in- 
duce him  to  remain  satisfied  with  merely  entreating 
her  to  take  the  overture  into  immediate  considera- 
tion, He  would  have  dreaded  indeed  urging  her 
for  an  answer  to  it  at  the  moment,  so  inauspicious 
to  his  hopes  had  he  every  reason,  from  her  looks, 
to  imagine  it  would  have  been.  Kissing  her  pale 
cheek,  with  an  assurance,  that,  for  whatever  re- 
quest he  urged,  she  might  rely  on  it  solicitude  for 
her  happiness  was  his  motive,  he  shortly  after 
quitted  the  room,  convinced  there  was  but  little 
chance  of  her  recovering  from  the  emotion  she  was 
in,  till  left  to  herself. 

Angeline  no  sooner  found  herself  at  liberty,  than 
she  hurried  from  the  house,  as  if  fearful  of  re- 
straint or  observation  if  she  remained  within  it. 
But  with  no  hope  of  recovering  calmness  in  the 
solitary  shades  to  which  she  was  repairing,  did  she 
hasten  forward :  her  mind  was  in  that  tumultuous 
state  in  which  external  objects  can  have  little  in- 
fluence. She  found  herself  in  a  situation  of  the 
crudest  embarrassment — compelled  to  a  decision 
for  which  no  reason  could  be  assigned,  that  could, 
in  any  degree,  justify  or  excuse  it.  To  positive- 
ly reject  the  proposal  of  lord  Hexham,  without 
having  seen  him,  must,  she  was  byt  too  well  aware. 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMN.  147 

subject  her  to  the  most  unpleasant  suspicions,  or 
rather  confirm  those  it  was  but  too  evident  to  her 
her  father  entertained,  of  her  having  a  secret  at- 
tachment ;  and  yet  called  upon  as  she  was  immedi- 
ately for  a  conditional  answer,  how  could  she  avoid 
declaring  her  determination  to  decline  it  ? 

In  such  a  case,  would  not  a  little  evasion  be  ex- 
cusable f  and  yet  of  what  avail  any,  she  reflected, 
if  still  the  affair  must  end  in  her  appearing  to  be 
the  person  through  whose  means  the  projected  al- 
liance was  declined  ?  Oh !  if  lord  Hexham  knew  of 
her  cruel  situation— if  he  knew  of  the  agony  of 
her  sinking  heart,  at  the  idea  of  incurring  the  disr 
pleasure  of  her  father,  forfeiting  his  esteem,  might 
he  not  be  induced  to  save  her  from  what  she  dread- 
ed— induced  to  let  it  appear  that  to  him,  not  her, 
was  owing  the  relinquishment  of  the  proposed  alli- 
ance ?  But  should  he  disappoint  the  expectations 
she  had  been  led  to  form  of  him — should  he  not 
possess  that  real  nobleness  and  generosity  of  nature 
which  could  alone  propel  him  to  act  in  the  manner 
she  required — oh !  what,  she  reflected,  would  be 
her  regret,  her  despair,  her  confusion,  and  ever- 
lasting shame,  at  having  confided  to  him  her  story 
— at  having  revealed  to  him  the  humiliation,  the 
degradation  she  had  met  with  !  Ere  she  could  de- 
cide on  so  entirely  committing  herself,  she  felt  she 
must  be  assured  beyond  a  doubt  that  he  was  the 
kind  of  being  he  had  been  represented ;  and  yet 
how  was  she  to  receive  this  assurance  ? — of  whom 
had  she  the  power  of  learning  ? — of  whom  of  in- 
quiring into  these  minute  traits  that  more  fully  de- 
velop the  character,  than  any  one  particular  action, 
but  of  that  partial  friend  who  was  interested  in 
making  him  appear  all  that  was  amiable  in  her  eyes? 
With  increasing  anxiety  she  pursued  her  way,  be- 


149          MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

traying,  by  her  looks  and  gestures,  (he  agitating 
influence  of  the  feelings  that  alternately  swayed 
her.  Sometimes  she  started,  as  if  a  sudden  pang 
had  seized  her,  gazed  round  her  with  a  sigh,  and 
seemed  inclined  to  stop — then  again  hurried  for- 
wards, with  a  countenance  expressive  of  terror, 
as  if  impelled  by  some  secret  dread.  Lost  in 
thought,  she  unconsciously  advanced  within  the 
shrouding  gloom  of  the  Abbey  woods,  so  immedi- 
ately blended  in  the  distant  view  with  those  of 
Rooksdale,  as  to  appear  to  form  with  them  but  one 
boundless  contiguity  of  shade.  An  abrupt  open- 
ing in  the  trees  causing  her,  from  the  stronger  light 
it  admitted  to  the  path  she  was  pursuing,  to  up- 
lift her  dejected  eyes  from  the  ground,  she  beheld 
herself  near  the  edge  of  a  narrow  river,  winding, 
in  the  most  picturesque  manner,  through  the  woods, 
with  a  light  bridge  thrown  over  it,  which,  from 
the  sun  shining  on  it  at  the  moment,  gave  a  bril- 
liance to  the  water  that  admirably  contrasted  with 
the  brownness  of  the  surrounding  shades,  imme- 
diately opposite  to  where  she  stood;  an  upland 
lawn  overlooked  the  water,  scattered  over  with 
trees  and  shrubs,  gradually  thickening  again  into 
deep  masses  of  shade,  with  a  beautiful  cottage  on 
its  brow,  bespread  with  luxuriant  vines,  and  from 
which  a  steep  descent  at  the  side  led  to  a  small  vale 
below,  where  the  garden  was  formed. 

The  soft  touches  of  nature's  pencil,  which  she 
here  beheld  on  every  side,  filled  her  \v  ith  admira- 
tion; oppressed  as  she  was  with  anguish,  she  yet 
could  not  forbear  gazing  with  something  of  delight 
on  this  enchanting  spot.  While  doing  so,  she  was 
startled  by  hearing  her  name  pronounced;  she 
turned  with  quickness,  and  beheld  a  gentleman  of 
the  name  of  Soletire,  who,  together  with  his  wife, 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    C'OLUAili.  140 

she  had  more  than  once  met  at  St.  Cuthbert's,  ad- 
vancing with  a  book  in  his  hand,  from  a  gothic 
bench,  in  a  shady  sequestered  spot  she  had  not  be- 
fore noticed,  overlooking  a  little  picturesque  creek 
of  the  water.  Having  politely  paid  her  the  com- 
pliments of  recognition,  he  gave  her  to  understand, 
with  an  earnest  entreaty  for  her  to  do  him  and  Mrs, 
Soleure  the  honour  of  resting  in  it,  that  the  cottage 
she  saw  was  his. 

Unfitted  at  present  for  conversation,  Angeline 
was  on  the  point  of  entreat  ing  him  to  have  the  good- 
ness to  excuse  her  then  taking  a  nearer  survey  of 
his  charming  habitation,  v/hen  the  unexpected  ap- 
pearance of  Mrs.  Soleure,  with  her  two  lovely 
ehildren,  hastening  towards  them,  evidently  for 
the  purpose  of  uniting  in  his  request,  prevented 
her.  She  could  not,  after  such  a  proof  of  polite- 
ness, bring  herself  to  act  in  any  way  that  might  ap- 
pear uncourteoua  or  repelling,  and  accordingly, 
crossing  the  bridge  with  Mr..  Soleure,  soon  found 
herself  seated  in  his  parlour.  Extending  through 
the  house,  this  room,  at  one.  end  commanded  a 
noble  view  of  the  rich  woods  and  winding  river,  al- 
ternately appearing  and  disappearing  amongst 
them,  which  Angeline  had  just  been  survey  ins: ; 
and  from  the  other,  a  pleasant  one,  through  the  up. 
right  boles  of  the  tall  trees  that  shot  to  an  immense 
height  above  the  building,  of  the  public  road,  and 
the  scattered  village  through  which  it  wound,  sur- 
mounted by  cultured  fields,  enlivened  by  flocks 
and  herds. 

The  tasteful  simplicity  of  all  within  perfectly 
accorded  with  the  rustic  exterior;  nothing  could 
be  more  in  character  with  the  style  of  the  "building 
than  the  furniture  and  decorations.  Still  more 
.  n.  a 


J50         MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

pleased,  Angeline  could  not  refrain  from  express- 
ing her  admiral  ion  of  all  she  saw. 

*  Your  approbation/  replied   Mr.  Soleure,  '  is 
as  pleasing  to  me  as  1  am  sure  it  would  be  flatter- 
ing to  those  who  planned  this  charming  retreat ;  I 
have  the  enjoyment  of  its  beauties,  but   to   the 
taste  of  others  is  due  the  compliments  they  merit. 
This  was  fitted  up  for  the  residence  of  a  noble 
emigrant  the  family  knew  abroad,  and  from  the  re- 
tirement in  which   he  lived,  styled  the  hermitage. 
They  embellished  it  in  this  manner  for  him.     The 
paradise  you  behold  1  found  it  on  being  put  in  pos- 
session of  it,  soon  after  his  decease,  through  the 
kindness,  the  benevolence  of  lord  Hexham.' 

Lord  Hexham,  r.ext  to  his  unexpected  appear- 
ance, was  the  sound  of  his  name,  just  at  this  pre- 
cise moment,  calculated  to  agitate  Angeline:  in- 
voluntarily she  repealed  it,  with  something  like  a 
look  of  interrogation. 

*  Yes/  added  Soleure,  comprehend  ing  this  look  ; 
*  to  him  am  I  indebted  for  being  its  happy  tenant : 
— its  happy  tenant !  oh  more!  for  still  being,  in  al! 
probability,  an    inhabitant   of  this  nether  scene! 
yes,  to  him  do  1  owe  both — do  L  owe  obligations  of 
a  nature  not  to  be  done  justice  to — such  as  but 
even  to  glance  at,  excite   emotions  almost  over- 
whelming/ 

'He  is  reckoned  very  amiable,  1  believe/  said 
Angeline,  but  in  a  confused  and  agitated  tone,  ow- 
ing to  her  anxiety  to  hear  more,  yet  unwillingness 
to  ask  any  direct  question. 

*  Amiable  !'    repeated     the  animated    Soleure, 
wiih  emotion;  *  oh,  he  is  the  most — '  But  what  he 
was  about  adding  was  prevented  by  the  sudden  re- 
entrance  of  Mrs.  Soleure  at  this  moment,  who,  for 
an  instant,  had  quitted  the  room  to  order  in  refresh- 
ments. 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  151 

Angeline  was  of  too  grateful  a  nature  not  to  force 
herself  to  make  exertions  to  appear  sensible  of  this 
politeness  and  hospitality — a  politeness  and  hospi- 
tality which  confirmed  the  prepossession  she  had 
previously  conceived  in  favour  of  her  entertainers  : 
both,  indeed,  were  perfectly  calculated  to  immedi- 
ately excite  one  of  the  kind,  being  extremely  inter- 
esting in  their  appearance,  and  still  more  so  in  their 
manner. 

But  even  if  this  had  not  been  the  case,  nor  any 
particular  circumstance  had  occured  to  excite  a 
wish  to  appear  pleased,  still  would  sjie  have  linger- 
ed with  them,  from  the  curiosity  excited  respect- 
ing lord  Hexham,  or  rather  the  hope  she  entertain- 
ed, from  what  she  had  already  heard,  of  being  here 
able  to  obtain  the  further  information  relative  to 
him  she  wished  for.  In  the  timid  efforts,  however, 
which  she  made  for  the  purpose  of  leading  the  con- 
versation again  to  him,  she  did  not  immediately 
succeed;  at  length,  becoming  still  more  anxious, 
or  rather  fearful,  if  not  more  explicit,  of  being  dis- 
appointed, she  took  advantage  of  a  momentary 
pause  in  the  discourse,  to  ask  Soleiife  whether  they 
nad  been  long  acquainted  f 

'  About  four  years  since/  he  replied,  '  chance 
brought  us  acquainted,  or  rather,  let  me  say,  a 
lucky  Providence,  for  surely  such  it  was  to  me ; 
and  so  I  am  certain  you'll  think  it,  should  my  story 
ever  be  made  known  to  you,  as  something  tells  me 
it  will;  for  we  feel  ourselves  irresistibly  propelled 
to  speak  of  ourselves  to  those  whose  hearts  we  are 
aware  are  capable  of  general  sympathy/ 

Angeline  bowed  to  this  compliment, — '  Assur- 
edly/ she  replied,  '  I  should  feel  myself  highly 
flattered,  and,  [  make  no  doubt,  equally  gratified, 
by  the  communica'ibn  you  allude  to/ 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMU* 


CHAP.  XII. 

'Jh,  lt»t  me  in  tho  country  range  ! 
"Tis  there  we  breathe,  'tis  there  we  live  s 
The  beauteous  scene  of  aged  mountains, 
Smiling*  vallics,  murnfring  fountains; 
Lsmtbsm  tiow'ry  pastures  bleating, 
Keho  our  complaints  repealing; 
Dees  with  busy  sounds  delighting, 
Groves  to  gentle  sleep  inviting ; 
Whispering  winds  the  poplars  courting, 
tf  wains  in  rustic  circles  sporting*; 
Birds  in  cheerful  notes  expressing, 
Nature's  bounty,  and  their  blessing: 
These  afford  a  lasting  pleasure, 
Without  guilt,  aud  without  measure.         BROWN. 

•THEN  without  further  preface,  to  give  you  my 
Dimple  story/  said  Soleure,  'you  must  know  I  am 
from  Switzerland.  That  both  from  my  accent  and 
name  you  previously  surmised  my  being  a  foreign- 
er, I  make  no  doubt ;  but  till  now  1  believe  you 
were  unaccmainted  with  the  place  I  belonged  to. 
My  father  was  a  native  of  the  canton  of  Friburgh, 
and  carried  on  a  mercantile  concern  in  its  romantic 
capital,  the  situation  of  which,  if  not  the  most 
beautiful,  is,  at  least,  the  most  wild  and  picturesque 
in  all  Helvetia;  built  partly  in  a  plain,  partly  on 
bold  acclivities,  so  hemmed  in  by  circumjacent  hills, 
that  a  glimpse  is  hardly  caught,  till,  from  an  over- 
hanging eminence,  the  traveller  bursts  upon  a  full 
view  of  it ;  the  descent,  on  all  sides,  to  the  town  is 
so  extremely  steep,  that  in  one  place  the  streets 
actually  pass  over  the  roofs  of  the  houses,  many 
of  which  regularly  rise  above  one  another,  like  the 
Feats  of  an  amphitheatre,  while  in  other  places 
they  overhang  the  edge  of  precipices,  in  such  a 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  153 

manner  as  to  make  the  head  giddy ;  and  where  it 
has  been  observed,  that  an  unfortunate  lover,  re- 
pulsed in  his  suit,  might  instantly  put  an  end  to  his 
pains,  by  taking  a  leap  from  the  parlour- window, 
without  the  trouble  of  a  journey  to  Leucate,  or  to 
the  rocks  of  Meillerie. 

'  My  mother  was  an  Englishwoman,  with  whom 
my  father  had  become  acquainted  in  a  journey  on 
business  to  her  native  kingdom :  never  were  two 
beings  more  sincerely  attached,  or  perfectly  re- 
sembliiig  each  other,  united.  In  saying  my  father 
possessed  all  those  striking  traits  that  characterize 
his  countrymen,  1  need  add  no  more  in  his  praise. 
JVly  mother,  like  him,  to  an  ardent  imagination, 
united  a  taste  for  all  that  was  sublime  in  nature,  or 
elegant  in  composition,  a  noble  love  of  indepen- 
dence, simplicity  of  manners,  frankrress  of  heart, 
the  most  genuine  hospitality,  and  universal  philan- 
thropy. 

'  The  union  of  such  si  Millar  characters  could  nor 
fail  of  being  productive  of  happiness ;  and  the 
result  of  that  happiness  was  peace  and  felicity  to 
all  around  them. 

1  I  was  their  only  offepfirtg,  and,  as  may  be  sup- 
posed, the  object  of  their  teaderest  affection ;  my 
father  intended  me  for  his  business,  but  this  inten- 
iion  did  not  induce  him  to  curb  my  genius,  or 
rather,  by  compelling  me  to  a  slavish  subjection  to 
*t,  damp  the  natural  ardour  of  my  feelings. 

(  With  a  quick  perception  of  the  beautiful  and 
^ublime,  that  perception  by  which,  as  an  elegant 
author  observes,  '  misery  as  well  as  rapture  is  pro- 
duced/ I  was  born;  and  with  such  a  taste,  it  may 
readily  be  believed  1  could  ill  have  brooked  com- 
plete restraint.  Far  from  declining  by  degrees,  it 
gradually,  1  may  say,  grew  with  my  growth,  and 


*j4  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMN, 

strengthened  with  my  strength  ;  but  it  would  have 
been  strange  had  the  case  been  otherwise,  consider- 
ing the  sublime  objects  by  which  I  was  surrounded* 
the  conversations  1  listened  to,  the  pursuits  I  was 
indulged  in.  My  father  possessed  too  much  of 
the  national  pride  of  the  Swiss,  not  early  to  make 
me  acquainted  with  all  that  was  great  and  glorious 
in  the  annals  of  my  country ;  and  while  he  dwelt 
with  enthusiasm  on  the  heroes  who  immortalized 
it,  did  not  forget  pointing  the  wild  scenes  of  their 
exploits.  With  what  rapture  did  I  visit  these 
scenes  !  how  wras  all  that  was  ardent  and  enthusias- 
tic in  my  nature  awakened,  as  1  wandered  over  the 
native  canton  of  Tell,  and  mused  upon  his  actions, 
amidst  the  gloom  of  the  steep  wood  that  awfully 
overhangs  his  chapel,  on  the  romantic  lake  of  Uri ! 

'  The  more  intimately  1  became  acquainted  with 
my  native  country,  the  greater  became  my  nation- 
il  pride  ;  but  can  this  be  wondered  at,  when, 
wherever  I  cast  my  eyes,  1  beheld  man  in  his  pro- 
per state,  breathing  the  invigorating  air  of  liberty, 
wearing  the  mien  of  content  and  satisfaction,  and 
unostentatiously  fulfilling  every  social  duty  f 

4  But  not  exclusively  were  my  wanderings  con- 
fined to  the  scenes  rendered  interesting  by  the  his- 
torian ;  there  was  not  a  romantic  spot  or  celebrated 
place  within  the  states  which  1  did  not  visit ;  more 
than  once  1  pilgrimized  to  St.  Gallen's  and  the  shrine 
of  our  lady  at  Einsilden,  traversed  the  dreary 
Grirnsel,  and  contemplated,  with  mingled  awe  and 
admiration,  the  tremendous  cataract  of  the  Rhine, 
and  its  magnificent  scenery.  \ 

'  The  pen  was  continually  laid  aside  for  the  spear 
of  the  chamois-hunter;  the  ledger,  to  make  a 
sketch  of  some  romantic  scene.  Beyond  the  im- 
mediate vicinity  of  Friburgh,  I  had  no  occasion  to 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLXJMB. 

seek  for  subjects  for  the  pencil,  views  at  once  im- 
pressive and  interesting :  the  Moulin  de  la  Motle 
and  the  Valley  of  Goteron  have  been  justly  cele- 
brated-by  all  who  have  seen  them;  nothing  can  ex- 
cel the  wild  grandeur  or  picturesque  and  rich  vari- 
ety of  the  latter.  Good  God  !  even  now,  at  the 
mental  review  of  it,  1  feel  a  glow  at  my  heart — a 
soothing  and  delicious  sensation.  Here  my  most 
delightful  hours  were  passed:  sometimes  almost 
unconsciously  watching  the  eddying  course  of  the 
river,  fretting,  boiling  up,  and  in  many  places, 
pouring  over  them  in  sheets  of  foam,  amidst  the 
scattered  rocks  that  impede  its  progress;  some- 
times supinely  stretched  within  some  romantic 
glade,  with  time-bleached  precipices  starting  up  at 
one  side,  their  dingy  greyness  beautifully  contrast- 
ed by  the  bright  verdure  of  the  pines  that  shot 
from  amidst  their  fissures ;  and  on  the  other,  soft 
undulating  hillocks,  diversified  with  trees  and  thick- 
ets, with  flocks  grazing  the  tender  herb,  and  ru- 
minating herds  and  busy  peasants  enlivening  the 
more  distant  view. 

'  But  these  happy  days  were  not  to  last  for  ever  ; 
my  father,  by  a  connexion  with  a  mercantile  house 
that  proved  unfortunate,  became  involved  in  dif- 
ficulties of  the  most  distressing  nature  :  anxiety  of 
mind  brought  on  a  lingering  disorder,  that  termi- 
nated fatally,  and  which,  caught  by  my  mother 
within  a  few  days  of  his  dissolution,  shortly  also 
deprived  me  of  her.  What  I  felt  at  this  trying 
period,  your  own  heart,  1  am  convinced,  can  bet- 
ter picture  than  I  describe :  but  exertions  were 
necessary;  the  indulgence  of  unrestrained  grief 
was  a  consolation  my  situation  denied  me,  Though 
more  painful  than  the  thoughts  of  death  to  quit  the 
place  of  my  nativity,  the  dear  and  affectionate 


156  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMC. 

friends  I  possessed  there,  yet  aware  there  was  no 
tither  alternative  than  to  do  so,  or  become  a  mere 
dependent  where  1  had  no  natural  claim,  I  resolved 
on  losing  no  time  in  preparing  for  my  departure 
for  England,  where  a  relation  of  my  mother's,  a 
merchant  in  London,  had  promised  to  receive  and 
provide  for  me ;  and  to  whom  both  she  and  my  belov- 
ed father,  in  their  last  moments,  had  earnestly  con- 
jured me  not  to  delay  repairing,  immediately  after 
the  performance  of  the  last  sad  duties  to  I  hem ;  but, 

'  Good  Hcav'n  !  what  sorrows  gloouvd  that  pin-ting  day, 
That  cali'd  me  from  my  native  walks  away  ! 
When  the  poor  exile,  ev'ry  pleasure  past, 
Hung  round  the  bowers,  and  fondly  look'd  his  lust, 
And  took  a  long  farewell,  and  wish'd  in  vain 
.For  seals  like  these  beyond  the  distant  main  !' 

*  To  break  the  local  attachments  of  the  poor  and 
simple,  is  a  task  of  pain  and  difficulty  ;  their  un- 
dissipated  thoughts -allow  not  of  that  wandering  of 
the  affections  that  renders  change  of  residence  a 
matter  of  slight  consideration  to  the  opulent ;  they 
cling  to  the  home  of  their  youth — the  home  where 
a  father's  care,  a  mother's  tenderness  was  theirs, 
with  all  that  fond  idolatry  with  which  the  ancients 
clung  to  their  household  gods ;  they  cling  to  it  as 
to  a  sheltering  friend,  from  whom  it  is  worse  than 
death  to  be  torn  ;  so,  at  least,  did  I  feel  on  quit  ling 
mine. 

'  But  the  feelings  with  which  I  left  it  were  not 
to  be  indulged ;  1  strove  to  banish  them  by  agreea- 
ble anticipations  of  the  future.  The  English  cha- 
racter had  highly  interested  me;  and  i  tried  to 
hope  I  should  soon  be  reconciled  to  a  residence 
among  such  a  people. 

'  But,  good  Heaven !  how  did  every  hope  of 
happiness  vanish  on  my  beholding  my  new  home ! 
Never  shall  I  forget  the  sickening  sensation,  the 
o'er'jowering  disgust  1  experienced  at  the  moment ; 


MONASTERY    OP    ST.    COLUMB.  157 

but  when  I  tell  you  it  was  situated  in  a  close  and 
gloomy  lane,  in  the  very  heart  of  London,  where 
nought  but  the  sickly  reflection  of  the  sun  was  ever 
aeen — where  the  blessed  light  of  day  came  strain- 
ed through  small  panes,  encrusted  with  dirt,  and 
every  countenance  wore  the  pale  cadaverous  hue 
ef  plodding  care  and  anxiety,  you  will  scarcely 
wonder  at  its  having  such  an  effect  upon  a  being, 
who  had  hitherto  been  accustomed  to  breathe  the 
purest  atmosphere  ;  and,  in  the  midst  of  business, 
had  but  to  cast  his  eyes  on  the  casement,  to  be* 
Iiold  the  most  stupendous  scenery,  all  that  could 
at  once  exalt  and  delight  the  imagination. 

*  The  manners  of  its  owner  were  not  by  any 
means  adapted  to  remove  the  disgust  with  which 
it  had  inspired  me;  cold  and  repelling,  they  at 
once  chilled  every  feeling.     Yet  did  he  not  mean 
any  marked  unkindness  in  his  first  reception  of  me; 
it  was  natural  to  him  to  be  stiff  and  constrained; 
and  he  wag  besides  so  completely  immersed  in  the 
pursuit  of  gain,  as  to  have  no  thought  beyond  it. 
His  little  figure  was  the  prototype  of  meanness, 
and  his  unbending  features  as  contracted  as  his  soul. 

*  With  such  a  being,  you  may  believe   I  soon 
perceived  there  was  but  little  chance  of  any  social 
intercourse— soon  perceived  there  was  but  little 
prospect  of  my  being  able  almost  in  any  degree  to 
assimilate.     Oh,  how  were  the  pangs  of  depend- 
ence aggravated  by  the  cruel  conviction !  how  by 
seeing  it  had  subjected  me  to  a  person  I  could 
never  esteem ! 

'  He  soon  gave  me  to  understand  what  he  ex- 
pected from  me,  and  what  I  might  expect  from 
him ;  in  a  word,  that  I  was  to  save  him  the  expence 
of  keeping  any  other  clerk  ;  and  might  rely  on  be- 
ing properly  considered,  if  1  conducted  mysejf 
with  propriety. 


i58  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

'  This  my  own  pride  would  have  influenced  me 
to  do,  without  any  incitement  from  selfishness; 
but  to  impose  a  constant  restraint  on  my  feelings — 
to  relinquish  all  my  former  tastes  and  pursuits, 
•which  to  merit  his  approbation  1  saw  absolutely 
essential  to  do,  was  indeed  a  task  of  difficulty. 
Unequal  at  all  times  to  it,  notwithstanding  my  dili- 
gence to  please  him,  1  from  time  to  time  fell  under 
his  displeasure;  my  thoughts  would  wander  at 
times,  in  spite  of  all  my  efforts  to  restrain  tlieni ; 
and  the  inadvertencies  I  was  consequently  betray- 
ed into,  were  extremely  irritating  to  a  person  in- 
capable himself  of  being  abstracted  for  a  minute 
from  selfish  considerations. 

*  Now  an  umbrella  was  lost,  then  a  pair  of 
gloves;  sometimes  the  price  of  stock  forgot  to  be 
inquired,  though  sent  to  the  immediate  neighbour- 
hood of  the  'Change,  till  too  late  for  him  to  profit 
by  the  knowledge  ;  and  more  than  once,  from  a 
city- feast,  to  which,  either  out  of  kindness,  or  a 
motive  of  economy,  he  sometimes  took  me,  1  brought 
home,  in  consequence  of  not  labelling  it  according 
to  his  directions,  an  old  hat  in  place  of  a  new  one. 

'  In  short,  from  being  gradually  led  to  consider 
me  as  a  very  careless  fellow,  my  kinsman  gradually 
began  to  prophesy  that  i  would  never,  according 
to  the  city  acceptation  of  the  word,  be  a  good 
man,  and  accordingly  to  regard  me  with  very 
great  contempt. 

'  1,  in  my  turn,  viewed  him  with  compassion,  as 
a  being  excluded  from  real  happiness,  from  being 
destitute  of  all  those  feelings  and  perceptions  es- 
sential to  the  enjoyment  of  refined  pleasure. 

t  Yet  in  his  own  way  he  was  not  without  enjoj^- 
ment ;  he  had  a  very  particular  relish  for  feasting, 
to  indulge  which  he  was  often  tempted  to  take  ex- 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  159 

cursions  in  the  summer  to  the  neighbouring  villa- 
ges ;  the  asparagus  of  Battersea  and  Gravesend, 
and  the  wild  rabbits  of  Epping  Forest,  had  particu- 
lar attractions  for  him. 

'  I  strove  to  command  my  feelings — to  submit 
without  murmuring  to  the  dreadful  drudgery  im- 
posed upon  me,  to  the  total  want  of  all  intellectu- 
al enjoyment,  but  in  vain  ;  every  day  I  became 
more  unhappy,  every  day  more  heart- sick  and  dis- 
gusted. At  length,  after  passing  near  two  years  in 
this  situation,  convinced  1  could  never  become  re- 
conciled to  it,  i  ventured  to  suggest  to  my  kins- 
man, that  the  best  thing  he  could  do  with  me  would 
be  to  put  me  in  the  army:  this,  however,  he  posi- 
tively refused  doing,  not  however  on  account  of 
any  unwillingness  to  part  with  me  ;  on  the  contra- 
ry, he  plainly  intimated,  by  his  manner,  there  was 
nothing  he  more  wished  than  to  be  fairly  rid  of  me : 
but  entirely  on  account  of  the  expence  that  must 
have  attended  such  a  measure.  His  refusal,  how- 
ever, had  no  effect  in  inducing  me  to  relinquish 
the  idea  I  had  conceived  of  entering  it :  according- 
ly, leaving  behind  me  a  letter,  thanking  him  for 
all  past  favours,  and  explanatory  of  my  determi- 
nation of  trying,  since  he  had  prophecied  I  never 
would  be  a  good  man,  whether  it  was  not  possible 
I  might  be  a  great  one,  I  quitted  his  house  one 
morning  by  daybreak,  and  proceeding  to  Ports- 
mouth, embarked  as  a  volunteer  with  a  regiment 
then  on  the  point  of  sailing  for  Spain. 

'  Oh  Heavens  !  what  a  mountainous  weight 
seemed  removed  from  my  feelings  by  the  change 
in  my  situation,  by  again  finding  myself  associated 
with  beings  capable  of  conversing  on  something 
besides  mere  profit  and  loss,  and  feeling  an  interest 
for  others ! 


1(50  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB, 

'  The  cause  which  they  were  hastening  to  sup 
port  was  too  animating,  too  interesting  to  every  lo- 
ver of  freedom,  not  to  rouse  all  that  was  energetic 
in  my  nature  ;  1  exulted  in  the  idea  of  uniting  in 
it,  of  aiding  in  a  struggle  that  reminded  me  of  the 
noble  one  made  by  my  immortal  ancestors  for  the 
restoration  of  their  rights  as  men.  1  will  not  ex- 
haust your  patience,  by  entering  into  a  minute  de- 
tail of  all  that  occurred  after  my  arrival  in  Spain  ; 
suffice  it  to  say,  that  in  the  course  of  a  few  months 
I  obtained  a  commission ;  and  shortly  after,  with 
the  shattered  remains  of  the  regiment  to  which  I 
belonged,  was  ordered  to  Ireland.  From  Cork, 
where  we  landed,  we  proceeded  to  Galway,  where 
the  kindness  and  hospitality  we  experienced  soon 
convinced  us  that  the  Irish  are  not  famed  for  vir- 
tues which  they  do  not  possess  :  I  here  met  with 
a  warmth,  a  frankness,  a  cordiality,  that  too  strong- 
ly reminded  me  of  my  native  country,  not  to  make 
me  feel  as  if  1  was  at  home — a  feeling  that  cannot 
be  experienced  without  a  strong  sensation  of  hap- 
piness. 

*  Nor  was  the  wildness  of  the  adjacent  country 
unpleasing ;  true,  the  eye  sought  here  in  vain  for 
that  richness  of  vegetation,  these  glimmering  shades 
and  sympathetic  glooms  on  which  it  loves  to  re- 
pose ;  but  even  in  the  rude  aspect  of  the  uncul- 
tured heath,  there  is  something  delightful  to  the 
real  lover  of  nature. 

'  My  excursions  here  were  productive  of  infi- 
nite gratification,  from  the  ample  opportunities  they 
afforded  me  of  becoming  acquainted  with  the  mari- 
ners of  the  inhabitants,  manners  more  distinguished 
in  this  part  of  the  kingdom  by  national  traits  than 
any  other ;  nor  is  this  to  be  wondered  at,  when  it 
is  recollected  that  during  the  usurpation  of  Crom- 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  lo'l 

well,  all  the  native  Irish  were  driven  into  the  pro- 
vince of  Connaught,  and  compelled  to  remain  there, 
on  pain  of  death,  until  the  restoration,  when,  owing 
to  the  difficulty  they  found  in  recovering  their  an- 
cient possessions,  all  of  which  had  been  seized  and 
bestowed  on  his  followers,  many  of  them  finally 
settled  in  it. 

Jn  the  course  of  my  rambles,  1  became  acquaint- 
ed with  the  descendant  of  an  ancient  chieftain  of 
the  name  of  O'Donohue,  who,  on  his  being  banish- 
ed from  his  native  inheritance  on  the  pleasant  banks 
of  the  Shannon,  became  proprietor  of  an  old  cas- 
tle on  the  very  verge  of  the  vast  Atlantic,  where, 
between  the  spot  on  which  it  stood  and  the  mighty 
continent  of  America,  no  other  land  interposed. 

'  The  very  prince  of  hospitality  was  Mr.  O'Do- 
nohue ;  his  house  was  never  empty ;  but  his  own 
family,  which  was  absolutely  patriarchal,  from  its 
numbers,  there  seeming  to  be  no  end  of  his  half- 
brothers  and  cousins,  was  in  itself  indeed  sufficient- 
ly numerous  to  fill  it. 

'  But  still  more  than  either  by  his  kindness  or 
urbanity  was  I  drawn  thither,  'iy  the  unobtrusive 
charms  of  his  daughter,  the  darling  of  his  aged 
heart,  and  delight  of  all  who  knew  her. 

'  Brought  up  in  the  very  bosom  of  simplicity, 
she  was  just  the  artless  kind  of  being  I  early  felt  I 
could  love;  but  notwithstanding  the  natural  ardour 
and  impetuosity  of  my  feelings,  I  suffered  my  si- 
tuation to  restrict  me  from  giving  utterance  to  the 
sentiments  she  had  inspired,  and  might  perhaps 
never  have  explained  them,  though  agonizing  would 
it  have  been  to  practise  such  self-denial,  but  for 
the  occurrence  of  a  melancholy  circumstance. 

'  The  generous  O'Donohue  suddenly  expired  at 
his  festive  board;  and  his  expences  having unfor- 

VOL.    II.  P 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

tunately  far  exceeded  his  means,  an  immediate 
seizure  of  his  property  followed. 

'  The  consequently  destitute  situation  of  his  or- 
phan, if  with  propriety  she  could  be  styled  desti- 
tute, who,  on  every  side,  received  the  kindest  of- 
fers of  protection,  wrung  every  heart  with  sorrow. 
Her  father  had  been  highly  imprudent  indeed; 
but  «till  he  had  not  squandered  away  his  patrimony 
on  parasites;  -for  of  his  numerous  retainers,  there 
was  not  one  who  did  not  more  deplore  Avhat  had 
happened  on  account  of  his  daughter  than  their 
own,  and  cheerfully  assure  her  she  was  welcome  to 
the  run  of  their  house,  such  as  it  was,  as  long  as 
she  pleased. 

But  the  explanation  into  which  1  had  been  be- 
trayed in  my  first  interview  with  her,  after  the  ir- 
reparable loss  she  had  sustained,  induced  her  to 
decline  availing  herself  of  any  of  these  offers  or 
assurances,  and  in  place  of  doing  so,  unite  her  fate 
with  mine. 

'  Conceiving,  from  my  now  having  actually  taken 
the  cares  of  life  upon  me,  that  my  kinsman  would  na- 
turally conclude  1  must,  for  my  own  sake,  become 
an  altered  man,  and,  in  consequence,  might  be  in- 
duced to  serve  me,  I  lost  no  time,  after  it  had 
taken  place,  in  acquainting  him  of  my  marriage, 
and  entreating  his  assistance,  in  enabling  me  to  en  - 
fcer  some  other  line  of  life,  better  calculated  to  al- 
low me  to  support  a  family  than  the  one  I  was  then 
in.  To  this _ application,  in  due  course  of  time,  I 
received  an  answer,  in  which,  after  first  very  se- 
verely reprimanding  me  for  omitting  to  post -pay 
my  letter,  he  solemnly  assured  me,  that  nothing  on 
earth  could  possibly  induce  him  to  trouble  himself 
again  abou*  me,  and  that  therefore  to  write  to  him 
again  would  only  be  to  give  myself  useless  trouble. 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  Itji.-: 

"  Though,  from  my  knowledge  of  his  disposition, 
I  might  have  been  aware  I  had  little  to  expect  from 
him,  yet  with  the  proneness  of  youth  to  hope  al- 
most impossibilities,  I  had  suffered  myself  to  in- 
dulge an  expectation  of  some  favourable  result  from 
this  letter,  and  was,  in  consequence,  as  you  may 
believe,  almost  overwhelmed  by  the  contents  of 
his. 

'  Bleak  and  dismal  indeed  was  the  prospect  the 
disappointment  of  this  expectation  caused  me  to 
contemplate — an  expectation  strengthened  by  the 
reflection  of  his  promise  to  my  parents,  not  to  let 
any  little  youthful  inadvertency  cause  him  to  cast 
me  off,  and  of  the  claim  he  must  feel  I  had  upon 
him,  from  some  very  important  obligations  they 
had 'conferred  on  him. 

*  For  the  sake  of  the  beloved  being  whose  des~ 
tiny  was  now  blended  with  mine,  I  strove  to  dis- 
guise my  anguish ;  tuft,  alas  !  the  encreasing  pres- 
smre  of  distress  qaiekly  rendered  all  further  at- 
tempts at  dissimulation  unavailing.  The  fearful 
consequences  I  soon  began  to  anticipate  from  our 
union,  speedily  ensued;  from  the  additional  ex.- 
pences  it  occasioned,  I  soon  found  myself  involved 
in  difficulties  that  were  insurmountable  ;  in  conse- 
quence, I  was  compelled  to  resign  my  commission, 
and  fly  to  London  with  my  wife,  for  the  joint  pur- 
pose of  obtaining  a  shelter  from  my  merciless  cre- 
ditors, and  trying  to  procure  a  situation. 

(  During  my  residence  with  my  unfeeling  kins- 
man, 1  had  made  a  few  friends,  or,  more  correctly 
speaking,  acquaintances,  and  now  severally  applied 
to  them  on  the  subject  of  my  wishes;  but,  with 
the  exception  of  two  or  three,  found  myself  ap- 
parently forgotten  by  them  all. 

'  Still,  however,  I  was  prevented  sinking  into  ut- 


1 64  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

ter  despair,  by  the  promise  held  out  of  serving" 
ine,  by  those  who  condescended  to  recollect  me ; 
but,  alas  !  I  soon  found  those  promises  were  with- 
out meaning,  or  else  intended  to  draw  me  into  such 
an  unreserved  disclosure  of  my  situation,  as  should 
gratify  the  curiosity  1  had  excited. 

*  Hope  deferred/  says  the  wise  man,  '  maketh 
(he  heart  sick.'  Oh,  Heavens !  how  faint,  how 
sick  did  the  procrastination  of  mine  render  me ! 
At  length  my  circumstances  became  sa deplorable, 
I  could  no  longer  avoid  applying  for  a  little  pecu- 
niary assistance.  This  application  put  an  end  to 
all  further  Deception  on  the  part  of  my  pretended 
friends :  good  God  !  in  what  a  state  of  mind  did  1 
turn  from  their  respective  doors  !  Those  only  who 
have  beqn  in  a  similar  state  of  desolation  can  form 
an  adequate  idea  of  what  i.  felt  at  the  moment ; 
though  scarcely  able  to  drag  my  trembling  limbs 
along,  I  yet  shrank  from  the  idea  of  returning 
home,  destitute  as  1  was  of  all  means  of  imparting 
comfort  to  the  sad  heart  of  my  unhappy  love,  then 
in  a  situation  that  rendered  more  than  wonted  indul- 
gences requisite. 

'  Oh  that,  the  sighs  that  burst  from  me,'  I  in- 
wardly exclaimed,  (  could  waft  us  to  my  native 
mountains,  even  to  their  bleakest  summit,  for  there, 
even  there,  where  very  desolation  reigns,  does  the 
benignant  spirit  of  charity  hover ;  but  here,  in  the 
midst  of  opulence  and  luxury,  we  perish  :  no,'  I 
cried,  '  not  both ;  one  shall  be  sacrificed  to  save 
the  other.' 

'  Driven  to  desperation  by  the  horrors  of  my  si- 
tuation, I  had  no  longer  any  hesitation  in  deciding 
on  self-destruction,  and  accordingly,  bent  upon  it, 
hastened  towards  the  Serpentine-  River  in  Hyde- 
Park,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  which  1  happened 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  165 

f  o  be  at  the  moment  of  forming  this  resolution,  to 
rid  myself  of  a  miserable  existence.  Not,  how- 
ever, without  some  struggles  did  {  force  myself  to 
proceed ;  but  still  was  I  impelled  forward  by  the 
agonizing  reflection  of  not  having  the  power,  in  any 
degree,  of  administering  to  the  wants  of  my  wife, 
and  the  hope  1  entertained,  of  the  publicity  my 
fate  would  give  her  forlorn  situation,  obtaining  her 
the  succour  of  some  generous  heart. 

'  Arrived  at  the  fatal  spot,  1  took  out  my  pock- 
et-book, and  having  written  my  address  in  it,  with 
a  few  incoherent  lines,  meant  to  explain  the  rash 
act  I  was  about  committing,  threw  it  on  the  bank, 
and  was  about  plunging  in,  when  my  guardian  an* 
gel,  in  the  form  of  lord  Hexham,  rushed  between 
me  and  destruction . 

'  He  had  quitted  his  house,  for  the  purpose  of 
walking  with  some  ladies,  and  at  the  moment  1 
was  hastening  towards  the  river,  was  returning  to 
the  place  where  his  groom  waited  for  him.  Struck 
by  my  disordered  gestures,  he  determined  on  fol- 
lowing me,  and  seized  my  arm  just  in  time  to  pre- 
vent the  dreadful  act  I  meditated  :  I  struggled  to 
disengage  myself,  but  he  held  me  too  firmly  to  al- 
low me  to  succeed  in  my  effort  for  the  purpose — 
*  Unhappy  man,'  he  exclaimed, '  have  mercy  upon 
yourself!  Remember  no  circumstances  are  so 
desperate  which  Providence  may  not  relieve  !  Re- 
veal your  situation,  and  rely  on  it,  if  it  be  within 
human  means  to  assist  you,  you  shall  no  longer  have 
cause  to  despair/ 

'  Good  God !  what  did  I  not  experience  at  these 
words  !  the  sudden  revolution  of  my  feelings  over- 
came  me,  and  for  a  minute  I  was  compelled  to  lean 
against  his  Shoulder  for  support.  Recovering  a 
little,  I  tried  to  explain  what  he  wished,  but  my 


166  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMN 

accents  were  scarce  articulate,  through  emotion , 
in  consequence,  my  preserver  proposed  the  desir- 
ed communication  being  deferred  till  we  had  pro- 
cured a  carriage,  more  especially  as  by  this  time 
some  people  were  collecting  about  us :  accordingly 
we  hastened  to  Picadilly,  where,  obtaining  one,  he 
desired  me  to  give  my  direction  to  the  coachman. 
A  little  more  collected,  I  now  proceeded  to  give, 
as  briefly  and  coherently  *s  agitation  would  permit, 
the  explanation  he  required :  his  looks  testified  the 
feelings  it  excited.  By  the  time  I  had  concluded, 
we  had  reached  the  miserable  habitation  where  I 
lodged  :  as  the  carriage-step  was  letting  down,  he 
slipped  his  purse  into  my  hand,  and,  with  a  pres- 
sure of  it  that  spoke  volumes  to  my  heart,  assured 
me  I  might  depend  on  seeing  him  before  that  hour 
the  ensuing  day  ;  and  in  the  interim,  entreated  me 
to  let  the  conviction  of  the  worst  being  past  aid  me 
in  my  efforts  to  regain  composure. 

'  With  what  eagerness  did  I  now  hasten  to  my 
Anna !  with  what  wild  transport  did  I  fold  her  to 
my  heart,  as  starting  from  the  miserable  pallet  on 
which  in  terror  at  my  long  absence  she  had  thrown 
herself,  she  threw  herself  into  my  arms ! 

'  Oh,  at  length,  at  length/ 1  exclaimed,  as  I  held 
her  to  it, '  it  is  given  me  to  see  thee  without  regret 
or  remorse !  At  length  1  behold  a  prospect  of 
being  enabled  to  recompense  thee  for  giving  up  the 
protection  of  friends  and  kindred  for  my  sake.' 

'  Her  look  of  wild  inquiry  was  resistless — Invo- 
luntarily I  sunk  at  her  feet,  and  in  the  attitude  of 
contrition  and  gratitude,  gave  the  demanded  ex- 
planation. On  the  scene  that  ensued  1  shall  not 
dwell ;  to  do  so  in  the  present  instance,  would,  I 
am  convinced,  be  unnecessary.  Oh,  with  what 
lightened  hearts  did  we  forsake  our  couch  the  next 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  167 

morning !  no  longer  sorrowful  and  dismayed  at  the 
return  of  day,  from  our  dread  of  its  exposing  us  to 
new  persecutions. 

'  At  the  expected  time  my  preserver  made  his 
appearance ;  and  every  requisite  particular  being 
now  fully  made  known  to  him,  immediately  made 
the  necessary  arrangements  for  relieving  me  from 
my  present  difficulties.  Not  satisfied,  however, 
with  this,  he  resolved  on  settling  me  in  such  a  man- 
ner as  should  prevent  my  ever  being  involved  in 
similar  ones  again ;  to  raise  the  tree,  prostrated  by 
the  storm,  he  did  not  think  sufficient ;  to  fully  sa- 
tisfy himself,  it  was  necessary  he  should  secure  it 
perpetual  shelter. 

'  To  be  brief,  he  proposed  my  becoming  the  te- 
nant of  this  charming  place,  to  which  a  small  farm 
is  annexed;  and  on  my  involuntarily  shrinking 
back  for  a  minute  from  the  acceptance  of  an  offer 
laying  me  under  such  an  additional  obligation,  tried 
to  lessen  my  sense  of  it,  by  declaring  my  acceding 
to  his  proposal  would  be  to  confer  an  obligation  on 
him  and  his  family,  as  they  had  long  wished,  for 
the  sake  of  having  a  neighbour  there,  to  see  the 
house  occupied,  though  determined,  out  of  respect 
and  affection  for  the  memory  of  its  recent  posses- 
sor, never  to  resign  it  to  any  one  not  worthy  of 
succeeding  him  in  it. 

'  In  a  word,  I  suffered  my  scruples  to  be  over- 
ruled— I  recollected  the  observation,  that  those 
who  too  fastidiously  shrink  from  obligations  are 
sometimes  suspected  of  being  those  who  would 
have  a  hesitation  in  conferring  them,  and  accord- 
ingly permitted  myself  to  be  rendered  completely 
happy. 

'  Four  years  have  now  elapsed  since  our  taking 
up  our  abode  here,  four  years  of  enviable  bliss,  of, 


166  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMfi. 

if  possible,  daily  increasing  felicity :  in  the  beauti- 
ful language  of  the  poet,  1  may  indeed  with  truth 
say, 

'  The  seasons, 

As  ceaseless  round  a  jarring  world  they  roll, 
Still  find  us  happy,  and  consenting  Spring 
Sheds  her  own  rosy  garland  on  our  heads.' 

'  Oh  Heavens !  when  we  review  past  scenes, 
how  exquisite  is  our  enjoyment  of  every  present 
blessing !  When  we  think  of  the  period  in  which 
we  were  denied  almost  the  cheering  light  of  day- 
pent  up  and  immersed  within  a  noisome  and  forlorn 
abode — harassed  and  perplexed  on  every  side, 
how  do  we  luxuriate  in  the  change ! — with  what 
delicious  sensations  inhale  the  sweetness  of  these 
fields — gaze  on  the  varied  grandeur  of  the  wide- 
extended  horizon,  and  stray  amidst  the  embower- 
ed walks  of  these  dejightful  woods  ! 

1  Oh  God !  benevolent  as  wise  in  all  thy  dispen- 
sations, thou  chasteneth  man,  not  merely  to  amend 
his  heart,  but  to  give  a  higher  relish  to  his  enjoy- 
ments ;  for  those  who  have  never  been  in  trouble 
scarcely  know  what  it  is  to  be  really  happy,  so  cal- 
culated is  the  most  trivial  circumstance  to  impart 
pleasure,  to  afford  delight,  to  him  who  has  for  any 
time  esperienceed  severe  privations :  that  delicious 
feast  which  Nature  spreads  for  all,  by  how  many  is 
it  overlooked  or  scorned  1  but,  as  the  poet  says, 

*  He  doet  not  scorn  it,  who,  imprisoned  long 

In  some  unwholesome  dungeon,  and  a  prey 

To  sallow  sickness,  which  the  vapours,  dank 

Aftd  clammy,  of  his  dark  abode  have  bred, 

Escapes  at  last  to  liberty  and  light ; 

His  cheek  recovers  soon  its  healthful  hue, 

His  eye  relumines  its  extingaish'd  fires ; 

He  walks,  he  leaps,  he  runs — is  wing'd  with  joy, 

And  riots  in  the  sweets  of  ev'ry  breeze  : 

He  does  not  scorn  it,  who  has  longendur'd 

A  fever's  agomea,  and  fed  om  drugs  \ 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUME.  169 

Nor  yet  (he  mariner,  his  blood  inflam'd 
With  acrid  salts,  his  very  heart  athirst 
To  gaze  at  Nature  in  her  green  array.' 

*  In  the  soft  delights  we  here  enjoy,  there  is 
something  that  surpasses  what  the  sensualists  call 
pleasure ;  quiet  and  health  accompany  every  step, 
and  the  path  is  open  to  every  virtue. 

'  Again,  as  in  the  days  of  early  youth,  1  find  my- 
self possessed  of  the  power  of  tracing  the  strokes 
of  Nature's  pencil — Heavens !  how  delightful  to 
behold  the  rising  sun !  to  watch  the  descending 
luminary — to  mark  the  varieties  of  the  revolv- 
ing seasons — to  trace  the  first  buds  of  the  leafy 
spring — to  see  the  hawthorn  swell  with  its  ver- 
nal treasures — the  rough  elm  burst  into  floods  of 
verdure — the  knotted  oak  thrust  out  its  vast  bud — 
the  slew  ash  push  forward  its  winged  leaves  to  add 
to  the  scene  of  beauty — to  mark  the  opening  of  the 
lively  primrose — to  see  the  yellow  crowfoot  spread 
its  gilded  coat  over  acres  of  the  higher  grounds — 
or  trace  the  blushing  tints  of  the  humble  daisy  that 
enamels  the  surface  of  the  plain — to  follow  along 
the  hedge-rows  the  wild  herbs  as  they  spring,  and 
mark  their  wonderful  and  curious  forms:  the  hya- 
cinth bending  its  stalk  with  fragrance,  the  young 
fruit  in  the  opening  blossom,  the  violet  in  its  shade, 
and  the  meek  lily  perfuming  the  path ! 

'  But  think  not,  in  the  enjoyment  of  these  con- 
templations, I  ever  forget  the  generous  being  to 
whom  1  am  indebted  for  my  happiness!  Oh,  no; 
next  to  Him  who  has  given  me  perceptions  to 
derive  pleasure  from  such  pursuits,  do  1  hold  my 
preserver  in  love  and  reverence.  What  indeed  do 
1  not  owe  him  !  the  preservation  of  a  life  infinitely 
dearer  to  me  than  my  own — the  bliss  of  being  able,  in 
some  little  degree*  to  benefit  others.  Great,  howev- 
er, as  is  tlie  felicity  he  has  been  the  means  of  confer- 


170  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

ring  on  me,  yet  I  doubt  whether  it  be  not  surpassed 
by  that  he  experiences  in  the  contemplation  of  the 
happiness  he  has  bestowed.  Lake  the  glorious  at- 
tribute mercy,  surely  we  may  say  of  charity, 

'  It  is  twice  bless'd  ; 
It  btesseth  him  that  gives,  and  him  that  takes.* 

'  Much  I  fear,  however,  I  have  fatigued  you  ; 
but  in  speaking  of  my  benefactor,  1  know  not  how 
to  restrain  or  check  myself.' 

*  Oh  pay  me  not  so  bad  a  compliment/  said  An- 
geline,  the  greatly- agitated  Angelina,  '  as  to  ima- 
gine a  thing  of  the  kind;  think  not  that  such  a  sto- 
ry, or  such  a   theme  could  ever  fatigue  me.     I 
cannot  express  to  you  how  much  I  have  been  af- 
fected by  yeur  narrative — by  the  manner,'   she 
more   hesitatingly  added,  and  with  a  faint  blush 
mantling  over  her  cheek,  '  in  which  yon  have  spo- 
ken df  lord  Hexham,' 

*  Were  I  to  have  spoken  ef  him  in  any  other,  I 
were  unworthy  of  what  he  has  done  for  me,'  said 
the  animated  Soietwe,  rising  as  fte  spoke,  for  the 
purpose  of  seeking  his  wife,  who,  on  his  approach- 
ing that  part  of  his  story  in  whkhshe  was  concern- 
ed, softly  retired  from  the  room. 

He  quickly  returned  with  her,  and  Angetine  now 
no  longer  delayed  taking  her  leave :  she  did  not  de- 
part, however,  without  again  expreesingher  grateful 
sense  of  the  politenes  and  hospitality  she  had  met 
with,  and  her  hope  of  being  henceforth  allowed  to 
consider  the  amiable  inmates  of  the  Hermitage 
as  more  than  mere  slight  acquaintances 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  1?1 


CHAP.  Xtll. 

She  reigns  more  fully  in  my  soul  than  ever; 
She  garrisons  my  breast,  and  mans  against  roe 
E'en  my  own  rebel  thoughts,  with  thousand  graces, 
Ten  thousand  charms,  and  new-discovered  beauties. 

LEE, 

MR.  Seleure  would  see  her  part  of'  the  way  back  : 
as  they  proceeded,  the  conversation  still,  from 
time  to  time,  reverted  to  lord  Hexham.  Some- 
thing still  continually  met  the  eye  of  Soleure  to 
remind  him  of  him,  and  one  anecdote  still  brought 
on  another,  and  still  was  the  last  more  interesting 
than  the  one  that  had  immediately  preceded  it ;  at 
length  he  took  his  leave. 

Left  again  to  the  indulgence  of  her  own  thoughts, 
how  grateful  was  Angeline  to  Heaven  for  the  relief 
afforded  to  her  distracted  mind  !  The  narrative  of 
Soleure  had  decided  her  on  revealing  her  story  to 
lord  Hexharn ;  and  the  consequences  she  antici- 
pated from  the  communication  had  an  immediate 
effect  upon  her  harassed  spirits — '  Yes/  she  said, 
'  1  need  not  fear  being  disappointed  in  making  an 
appeal  to  feelings  like  his  ;  eagerly  will  his  gener- 
ous heart  impel  him  to  step  forward  to  my  relief  — 
eagerly  to  extricate  me  from  the  difficulties  that  so 
augment  my  wretchedness.  Secretly  he  may  con- 
demn the  imprudence  to  which  this  wretchedness 
is  owing;  but  with  his  condemnation  of  it,  will,  I 
am  convinced,  be  mingled,  from  now  knowing  him 
to  be  in  reality  what  he  was  represented  to  me, 
pity  and  compassion.  Oh !  how  soothing,  how 
delightful,  in  the  midst  of  what  we  are  told  of  the 
degeneracy  of  the  times,  to  hear  of  such  characters 


172  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

as  his  !  to  find  there  are  hearts  still  to  be  met  with, 
glowing  with  all  the  sensibilities  of  nature,  open  as 
day  to  melting  charity  ! — and  to  this  noble,  this 
generous,  this  interesting  being,' she  cried,  'it  might 
have  been  my  happy,  my  blessed  fate  to  have  been 
allied,  but  for  the  rash  act  I  suffered  myself  to  be 
persuaded  to.  Oh  Heavens  !  how  enviable  the  lot 
of  her  who  shall  share  his  affections,  who  shall 
have  such  a  being  for  her  guide  and  protector 
through  the  thorny  path  of  life  ! — Yet  not  more 
enviable/  with  a  burst  of  tears,  she  added,  '  than 
1  credulously,  fondly  imagined  mine  would  have 
proved  in  becoming  the  wife  of  Villiers — of  him 
whose  countenance  bears  the  stamp  of  all  those  vir- 
tues which  are  in  reality  inherent  in  the  nature  of 
lord  Hexham.' 

A  party  of  gentlemen  this  day  to  dinner  at 
Rooksdale,  precluded  all  conversation  of  a  particu- 
lar nature  between  her  and  her  father  till  the  ensu- 
ing morning,  by  which  time  she  had  her  letter  writ- 
ten to  lord  Hexham,  and  which,  in  the  course  of 
the  day,  she  contrived  to  convey  herself  to  the 
post-office  in  the  adjacent  village.  Dictated  as 
was  every  expression  in  it  by  her  heart,  nothing 
could  be  more  affecting,  nothing  more  energetic, 
than  her  appeal  to  his  feelings.  Its  effect  upon 
them  was  of  the  most  agitating,  the  most  tumultu- 
ous, nature ;  it  at  once  caused  him  to  reproach  him- 
self with  cruelty  and  weakness, -with  having  too  in- 
humanly resented  his  wrongs,  yet  not  sufficiently 
remembered  them.  The  terms  in  which  she  un- 
consciously spoke  of  him  melted  his  very  soul,  and 
so  completely  disarmed  him  of  resentment,  that  had 
she  suddenly  appeared  before  him  at  the  moment, 
he  would  probably  have  found  it  a  difficult  matter 
to  have  forborne  clasping  her  to  the  heart  from 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  173 

which  she  so  pathetically  represented  herself  thrown, 
or  prostrating  himself  at  her  feet,  to  implore  her 
forgiveness  for  the  manner  in  which  he  had  spurn- 
ed her  from  his.  More  than  once  a  tear  fell  from 
him ;  and  involuntarily  he  kissed  the  lines  which 
bore  evident  marks  of  hers  having  been  dropped 
on  them.  All  that  he  had  originally  felt  for  her  was 
revived :  every  tender,  every  ardent  sentiment. 
He  could  no  longer  bring  himself  to  consider  her  as 
a  creature  debased  by  disposition — no  longer  hesi- 
tate to  give  way  to  the  belief  which  had  gradually 
been  excited  by  every  thing  that  had  come  to  his 
knowledge  respecting  her  since  her  arrival  at 
Rooksdale — the  meekness  with  which  she  bore  her 
sudden  elevation — her  eager  readiness  to  relieve 
distress — the  sweetness  and  simplicity  that  charac- 
terized heron  every  occasion — that  she  was  infinite- 
ly more  to  be  commiserated  than  condemned  ;  in  a 
word,  that  to  some  diabolical  villany  was  alone  ow- 
ing her  ever  having  been  led  astray.  The  more 
he  revolved  her  character,  as  now  presented  to  his 
view,  the  longer  he  dwelt  on  the  sentiments  that 
breathed  throughout  her  letter,  the  more  he  was 
confirmed  in  this  belief.  Her  hesitation  in  consent- 
ing to  become  his,  and  which  he  had  at  first  been 
led  to  consider  as  a  mere  artifice  to  shield  her  from 
his  indignation,  should  the  discovery  that  had  taken 
place  ever  occur,  he  now  viewed  in  the  light  of  a 
generous  struggle  between  honour  and  a  partiality 
for  him,  which  might  ultimately  Tiave  proved  suc- 
cessful, but  for  his  own  arguments  and  impetuos- 
ity. 

The  indignation  he  had  felt  against  her  was  now 
entirely  transferred  to  Roscrea,  whom  he  believed 
the  seducer  to  whose  arts  she  had  fallen  a  victim — 
1  Villain  !'  he  exclaimed,  *  how  shall  I  ever  be 

VOL,  II. 


174  MONASTERY    OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

to  endure  your  sight  again,  doomed  as  I  am,  through 
your  means,  your  marring  the  fairest  work  of  na- 
ture, to  lasting  misery  ! — Unhappy  Angeline!  oh  ! 
would  to  God  we  had  never  met,  since  not  destined 
to  meet  while  yet  Ihou  wert  all  that  nature  formed 
Ihee,  pure,  innocent,  and  lovely  in  mind  and 
thought,  as  even  now  thy  countenance  bespeaks 
ihee  !  but  since  our  unhappy  destinies  are  linked, 
as  much  as  possible  will  i  strive  to  mitigate  the  bit- 
terness of  thine.  Yes,  in  secret  will  I  watch  over 
thee — in  secret  try  to  guard  thee  from  the  experi- 
ence of  any  future  sorrow.' 

His  impassioned  answer  excited  emotions  scarce- 
ly less  tumultuous  in  the  bosom  of  Angeline;  after 
thanking  her,  in  his  character  of  lord  Hexham,  for 
the  high  honour  conferred  on  him  by  the  confi- 
dence she  had  reposed  in  him,  he  proceeded  to 
assure  her,  that  as  far  as  he  was  concerned  in  any 
affair  that  related  to  her,  she  might  set  her  heart  at 
ease  ;  he  never  would  permit  it  to  be  the  source  of 
pain  or  inquietude  to  her. 

She  tried  to  believe  it  was  only  gratitude  she 
felt ;  but  her  excessive  agitation,  the  kind  of  thril- 
ling pleasure  she  experienced  in  reperusing  his  let- 
ter, in  dwelling  on  each  impassioned  sentence, 
would  not  allow  her  to  indulge  in  such  a  belief;  she 
became  alarmed,  and  hastily  putting  up  the  pre- 
cious paper,  endeavoured  to  divert  her  thoughts 
from  him,  but  in  vain.  A  variety  of  circumstances, 
the  features  with  \rhich  her  fancy  had  painted  him 
to  her,  the  obligation  he  had  conferred  upon  her, 
the  conviction  his  letter  afforded  of  his  pos- 
sessing all  those  amiable,  those  noble  qualities  as- 
cribed to  him,  had  conspired  to  render  him  too  in- 
teresting <o  her  imagination  to  permit  her  efforts  for 
the  purpose  to  succeed. 

The  light  of  a  sufferer,  in  which  she  was  soon 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  \7$ 

led  to  regard  him,  on  her  account,  did  not  tend, 
by  any  means,  to  lessen  this  powerful  interest  he 
had  excited ;  on  the  contrary,  it  so  strengthened, 
HO  confirmed  it,  that  from  the  moment  she  became 
aware  of  being  the  cause  of  unhappiness  to  him, 
his  idea  almost  superseded  every  other  in  her  mind. 

On  her  father's  receiving  her  equivocal  pro- 
mise to  accept  his  addresses,  should  he  persevere 
in  paying  them,  a  promise  that  was  neither  utter- 
ed nor  thought  of  without  regret  and  confusion,  so 
repugnant,  so  revolting  to  her  feelings  was  every 
species  of  deception,  lie  hurried  to  the  abbey,  to 
acquaint  the  marquis  with  her  perfect  acquiescence 
in  his  wishes;  and  that  in  consequence  they  might 
consider  the  proposed  alliance  between  their  fami- 
lies a  settled  matter. 

This  information  imparted  no  slight  degree  of 
pleasure  to  the  marquis,  there  being  nothing,  as 
already  intimated,  he  was  more  solicitous  for.  But 
what  a  revolution  did  his  feelings  experience — how 
was  all  that  was  irritable,  that  was  indignant  in  his 
nature  roused,  when,  on  the  departure  of  Clan- 
ronel,  hastening  to  the  apartment  of  lord  Hexham, 
to  communicate  to  him  what  he  conceived  would 
be  the  joyful  intelligence,  he  heard  him,  after  a 
little  hesitation,  declare  he  was  sorry  matters  had 
proceeded  so  far,  as,  from  the  state  of  health  be  was 
now  convinced  he  was  in,  he  felt  it  impossible  to 
think  of  persevering  in  his  suit  to  Miss  Clanronel. 
—Good  God  !  after  allowing  him  to  make  an  over- 
tare  for  her  hand,  to  draw  back,  to  reject  it !  re- 
ject it  under  a  false,  a  frivolous,  a  contemptible  pre- 
tence !  for  there  was  nothing  in  his  appearance  that 
bore  testimony  to  the  truth  of  his  assertion  :  in 
what  a  situation  did  it  place  him !  what  a  morti- 
tying,  what  a  heart  wounding  conviction  did  such 


176  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

conduct  afford,  of  his  being  still  the  slave,  the 
voluntary  slave  of  an  unworthy  attachment !  for  to 
no  other  cause  could  he  assign  his  acting  in  a  man- 
ner at  once  so  degrading  to  himself  and  insulting  to 
others,  insulting  to  the  friend  whom  of  all  others 
he  knew  he  most  loved  and  esteemed,  and  his 
amiable,  his  interesting  daughter. 

'  Oh,  good  God  !'  in  agony  burst  from  him, 
'  have  1  lived  to  regret  being  a  father!  Have  1 
lived  to  feel  a  blush  on  my  cheek  for  the  son  in 
whom  I  so  prided  myself — in  whom  I  so  gloried  ! 
Is  this  the  realization  of  all  my  golden  hopes  con- 
cerning him  !  Is  it  thus  my  predictions  respecting 
him  are  fulfilled  !  Is  it  thus,  by  becoming  the  im- 
becile slave  of  passion,  he  realizes  the  promises 
of  his  early  youth !  Is  it  thus,  by  disappointing 
every  expectation,  he  recompenses  all  my  anxie- 
ties for  him !' 

The  vulnerable  heart  of  Hexham  was  almost 
rived  by  these  reproaches;  nothing  could  have 
enabled  him  to  sustain  them,  but  the  idea  of  the 
pam  they  inflicted  being  endured  for  the  sake  of 
Angelina,  of  Angeline,  become,  by  a  strange  per- 
verseness,  more  inteiestingthan  ever  to  his  imagi- 
nation— '  Could  you  look  into  my  heart,  my  dear 
father/  he  replied,  with  calmness,  '  you  would  be 
convinced  i  did  not  altogether  merit  these  re- 
proaches ;  but  I  am  too  well  aware  of  appearances 
being  against  me,  believe  me,  to  feel  any  resent- 
ment at  their  bitterness,  1  know  there  is  no  sacri- 
fice which  you  have  not  a  right  to  exact  of  me, 
and  Heaven  can  attest  there  is  nothing  in  my  power 
which  1  would  not  cheerfully  do  to  render  you 
happy/ 

'  Good  God,  that  words  and  actions  should  be 
at  such  variance  !'  impatiently  exclaimed  the  mar- 
quis, '  What  avail  these  professions,  unsupported 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLtJMB.  1?7 

as  they  are  by  your  conduct  ?  You  tell  me  you 
wish  to  contribute  to  my  happiness,  yet  refuse  the 
proof  I  require  of  your  sincerity ;  but  1  shall  no 
longer  importune  you  on  the  subject ;  we  must 
separate,  for  voluntarily  never  yet  did  1  associate 
with  the  man  whom  1  conW  not  esteem/ 

'  My  promptness  in  removing  hence  shall  con- 
vince you,'  said  the  unhappy  Hexham,  in  a  tone 
of  sorrowful  bitterness,  *  that  whenever  in  my  pow- 
er to  obey  you,  1  can  have  no  hesitation.  Would 
<o  God  that  it  were  in  my  power  to  give  a  more 
pleasing  proof  of  my  readiness  to  do  so  1* 

'  In  your  power  !'  repeated  the  marquis,  turn- 
ing back  from  the  door,  which  he  was  in  the  act  o! 
opening ;  '  explain  yourself;  something  mysteri- 
ous seems  couched  under  that  expression.  Only 
convince  me  you  have  a  justifiable  reason  for  de- 
clining the  proposed  alliance,  and  1  swear  never  to 
*peak  of  it  again ! 

'  Impossible,  impossible  P  cried  lord  Hexham, 
shrinking  back ; '  I  have  nothing  to  explain,  nothing 
'o  reveal,  but  that  1  am  wretched  !' 

'  Wretched !'  almost  contemptuously  repeated 
the  marquis.  'Yes,  that  I  can  well  believe ;  but 
ihe  struggle  that  occasions  your  wretchedness  will 
soon  be  over,  the  struggle  between  passion  and  a 
lingering  sense  of  propriety,  and  1  shall  have  com- 
pletely lost  my  son/  Uttering  these  words,  he 
rushed  from  the  room. 

To  conceal  what  had  passed  was  utterly  impos- 
sible, owing  to  the  necessity  there  was  for  coming 
to  an  immediate  explanation  with  Clanronel.  The 
marchioness  received  his  communication  with  equal 
astonishment  and  dismay,  led  by  it,  like  him,  to 
fear  lord  Hexham  still  persevered  in  his  unworthy 
attachment.  The  apprehension  excited  equal  pain 
92 


178  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  UGLtiMJ*, 

and  indignation,  so  much  had  she  expected  from 
him,  and  so  little  could  she  forgive  the  disappoint- 
ment of  the  expectations  he  had  raised. 

Nothing  could  surpass  the  agitation  and  distress 
of  the  marquis's  mind,  at  the  idea  of  the  explana- 
tion he  had  to  make  to  Clanronel ;  but  although 
he  shrunk  from  it,  yet  convinced  that  the  longer  it 
was  delayed,  the  more  embarrassing  he  should  feel 
it,  he  forced  himself  to  repair,  at  length,  to  Rooks- 
dale,  with  a  determination  of  being  candid  with 
his  friend,  persuaded  that  his  feelings  would  be 
less  likely  to  be  wounded  by  having  a  positive  rea- 
son assigned  for  his  alliance  being  declined,  than 
merely  a  vague  one ;  but  with  difficulty  could  he 
enter  on  the  subject  of  his  visit — with  difficulty 
collect  himself  sufficiently  to  introduce  it :  at 
length  the  effect  he  saw  his  agitation  had  upon  his 
friend,  induced  him  to  be  more  explicit.  That 
Clanronel  was  at  once  surprised,  disappointed, 
and  irritated,  by  what  he  heard,  may  readily  be 
imagined,  from  what  has  been  already  stated. 
Naturally  warm  in  his  temper,  and  incapable  him- 
self of  any  thing  of  trifling  or  disingenuity,  he 
could  not  meet  with  so  great  an  indignity,  without 
sensibly  feeling  it ;  but  notwithstanding  1  he  warmth 
just  alluded  to,  he,  on  the  present  occasion,  curb- 
ed his  feelings,  from  consideration  for  those  of  his 
unhappy  friend ;  his  looks,  his  manner,  all  tended 
to  prove  how  deeply  he  was  wounded  by  the  con- 
duct of  lord  Hexham ;  he  should  therefore  have 
r.onsidered  himself  not  merely  cruel,  but  inexcusa- 
ble, had  he  suffered  himself  to  be  betrayed  into 
any  resentful  expressions.  Anguish  like  that  the 
marquis  was  experiencing — that  anguish  which  the 
paternal  heart  must  endure,  at  the  destruction  of 
its  fond,  its  flattering  expectations,  be  was 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  179 

perfectly  qualified  to  judge  of,  and  in  consequence, 
to  be  aware  it  needed  not  aggravation.  But  though 
in  the  sorrow  and  sympathy  it  inspired  he  check- 
ed his  feelings,  he  could  not  bring  himself  to  for- 
give the  conduct  of  lord  Hexham,  nor  avoid  re- 
solving to  absent  himself  from  the  Abbey,  till  he 
had  quitted  it.  If  doubtful  of  being  able  to  sub- 
due the  unfortunate  attachment  he  had  again  the 
weakness  to  allow  himself  to  form,  he  justly  con- 
ceived he  should  not  have  allowed  himself  to  be 
prevailed  on  to  make  the  overture  he  had  done  ;  it 
evinced,  in  his  opinion,  a  want  of  candour,  feeling, 
and  delicacy,  not  to  be  forgiven. 

*  But  come,  come,  my  dear  lord,'  he  cried,  sud- 
denly grasping  the  hand  of  his  friend,  and  giving  it 
a  cordial  shake,  '  we  are  bolh  sufficiently  advanc- 
ed in  life  to  know,  that  what  is  wished  cannot  al- 
ways be  effected,  and  that  consequently  disap- 
pointments, to  which  all  are  liable,  should  be  pa- 
tiently borne.  Perhaps,  after  all,  this  union,  for 
which  we  were  so  desirous,  might  not  have  been 
productive  of  the  happiness  expected ;  at  all  events, 
the  wisest  way  is  to  agree  with  the  poet  in  think- 
ing, that  '  whatever  is,  is  best.'  Our  children  did 
not  lay  the  foundation  for  our  friendship,  neither, 
through  their  means,  will  it  ever,  I  hope,  be  inter- 
rupted/ 

'  Neither  by  theirs,  nor  any  other,  I  trust/  said 
the  marquis,  but  in  a  voice  scarcely  articulate 
through  emotion.  '  The  regard  of  a  friend  whose 
character  rises  upon  me  every  moment,  1  must  be 
anxious  to  preserve ;  but  how  cruel  is  the  disap- 
pointment this  unhappy  young  man  has  been  the 
means  of  inflicting  on  me  !' 

'  Well,  well,'  in  persuasive  tones ;  '  but  consider 
how  much  worse  it  might  have  been — consider, 


1&)  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUVIB. 

entangled  as  he  was,  he  might  have  formed  a  con- 
nexion that  could  not  have  been  dissolved  with  this 
Miss  De  Burgh.' 

'  Certainly ;  but/  his  cheek  flushing  with  indig- 
nation at  the  bare  idea,  '  had  he  done  so,  after  the 
solemn  promise  he  plighted  me,  never  would  I  have 
admitted  him  again  to  my  presence — no,  not  even 
though  she  had  proved  the  very  reverse  of  what 
tshe  is  now  represented.  1  can  make  great  allow- 
ances for  the  impetuosity  of  youthful  passion ;  but 
the  conscious  violation  of  a  solemn  obligation  is 
amongst  the  offences  i  cannot  pardon.'  Then,  after 
a  little  further  conversation,  he  abruptly  took  his 
leave,  unfitted  at  present,  from  the  extreme  agita- 
tion of  his  mind,  for  the  enjoyment  of  any. 

Almost  equal  to  the  embarrassment  which  the 
marquis  had  felt  in  communicating  to  him  the  con- 
duct of  lord  Hexham,  was  Qanroiiei's,  in  revealing 
it  to  Angeline,  owing  to  the  suspicion  inspired  by 
recent  circumstances,  the  agitation  she  latterly  be- 
gan to  manifest,  whenever  his  name  was  introduc- 
ed, of  her  having  at  length  been  led  to  entertain 
those  sentiments  for  him  that  had  once  been  wish- 
ed. The  emotion  she  betrayed  while  listening  to 
his  present  explanation,  did  not  tend  to  lessen  this 
apprehension,  and,  in  consequence,  occasioned  him 
to  speak  with  a  bitterness  of  lord  Hexham,  he 
would  once  have  believed  it  impossible  for  any  cir- 
cumstance to  have  induced  him  to  express  himself 
with  concerning  him :  yet  still,  from  a  lingering 
feeling  of  regard,  a  latent  hope,  perhaps,  that  what 
he  had  once  so  ardently  wished  for  might  yet  be 
effected,  if  concealed,  he  forbore  from  being  too 
explicit,  refrained  from  assigning  the  cause  to  which 
his  conduct  towards  her  had  been  imputed  by  the 
marquis. 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLCMB.  18  i 

But  he  had  said  sufficient  to  let  Angeline  per- 
ceive lord  Hexham  was  seriously  injured  with  his 
family  on  her  account,  and  her  agony  at  the  idea 
was  nearly  insupportable — her  agony  at  the  reflec- 
tion of  being  the  cause  of  unhappiness  to  a  cha- 
racter so  amiable,  so  interesting,  so  truly  noble  as 
his  ;  more  than  once  she  was  almost  impelled  by 
it  to  throw  herself  at  the  feet  of  her  father,  and 
avow  to  him  the  truth;  but  still,  as  the  secret 
trembled  on  her  lips,  was  she  prevented  giving  ut- 
terance to  it,  by  the  consideration  of  the  probably 
mortal  blow  its  disclosure  would  be  to  his  happi- 
ness. Yes,  she  felt  persuaded  nothing  could  con- 
sole him  under  the  conviction  of  hers  being  lost 
for  ever,  and  shrunk,  in  consequence,  from  reveal- 
ing the  fatal  truth  ;  but  how,  how,  she  asked  her- 
self, should  she  be  able  to  encounter  the  looks  of 
the  marquis  and  marchioness,  how  to  receive  their 
attentions,  conscious  as  she  was  of  their  domestic 
happiness  being  interrupted  through  her  means  ! 
Oh  Heavens !  how  at  this  trying  juncture  was  the 
misery  she  endured  aggravated  by  the  reflections 
that  suggested  themselves  to  her  !  more  than  once 
did  she  involuntarily  wish  that  the  confession  which 
had  occasioned  her  restoration  to  her  father  had 
never  taken  place,  so  dreadful  did  she  feel  the  re- 
straint which  her  present  situation  compelled  her 
to  impose  on  her  feelings,  and  so  much  did  she  fear 
being  yet  a  greater  source  of  misery  to  him  than 
any  he  had  previously  experienced.  Yes,  even 
though  her  unhappy  fate  should  never  be  revealed 
to  him,  still,  in  her  fading  cheek,  her  languid  eye, 
she  dreaded  there  would  be  but  too  sufficient  cause 
for  sorrow,  for  well  was  she  aware  of  the  probable 
injury  her  constitution  was  likely  to  sustain  from 
the  incessant  struggles  of  her  mind.  Time  had  iu 


J82  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COUJMB. 

some  degree,  she  reflected,  reconciled  him  to  her 
supposed  death;  but  greatly  she  apprehended  it 
would  fail  reconciling  him  to  her  loss,  after  her  un- 
expected restoration  to  him ;  and  in  anticipating 
what  he  might  yet  be  doomed  to  suffer  on  her  ac- 
count, her  very  heart  was  wrung. 

Oppressed  beyond  the  power  of  supporting  con- 
versation, or  bearing  observation,  she  watched  for 
an  opportunity  of  quitting  the  house,  and  immedi- 
ately bent  her  steps  towards  a  romantic  building 
amidst  the  rocks  at  the  water  side.  The  day  was 
one  of  those  delightful  ones  that  sometimes  occur 
in  the  latter  end  of  autumn — 

'  Light  shadowing  all,  a  sober  calm 
Fleeces  unbounded  ether,  whose  least  wave 
Stands  tremulous,  uncertain  where  to  turn 
The  gentle  current,  while  illumin'd  wide, 
The  dewy-skirted  clouds  imbibe  the  sun, 
And  through  their  lucid  veil  his  soften'd  force 
Shed  o'er  the  peaceful  world  ;' 

and  all,  from  its  tranquillity,  is  calculated  to  sooth 
the  throbbing  passions  into  peace ;  but  often,  in 
proportion  as  they  are  calmed,  is  melancholy 
deepened ;  such,  in  the  present  instance,  was  the 
case  In  any  frame  of  mind;  the  languid  stillness 
that  prevailed  around  would  have  been  calculated 
to  excite  pensive  sensations  in  the  bosom  of  Ange- 
iine ;  now  therefore  it  had  merely  an  effect  upon 
the  wild  anguish  of  her  feelings.  The  profound 
melancholy  it  was  adapted  to  promote  was  not 
lessened  by  the  dying  sound  of  water  that  met  her 
ear,  amidst  rocks  and  woods  wildly  intermingled, 
and  which,  with  the  magnitude  and  variety  of  the 
surrounding  objects,  concurred  to  render  the  scene 
at  once  awful  and  picturesque  in  a  high  degree, 
The  retreat  to  which  she  repaired  was  a  pavilion  in 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB,  186 

the  Turkish  style,  on  the  brow  of  a  stupendous 
cliff  above  the  river,  just  where  it  fell  in  cascades 
through  a  rocky  channel ;  the  steep  declivities  on 
each  side  thickly  covered  with  trees,  forming  a  no- 
ble avenue  of  hanging  woods,  terminated  by  St. 
Cuthberfs  Abbey,  half-embowered  within  the  so- 
lemn shade  of  deep  groves  of  oaks  and  sycamores ; 
and  as  it  crowned  the  cliffs  that  overhung  the  ri- 
ver, in  many  parts  covered  with  ivy,  presenting  a 
grand  and  awful  aspect  to  the  view.  From  expa- 
tiating over  the  diversified  prospect,  where  the 
sight  of  many  a  sweet  sequestered  cottage  in  the 
more  distant  view,  amongst  the  green  inclosures  of 
the  upper  hills,  imparted,  notwithstanding  her  deep 
dejection,  a  momentary  glow  to  her  feelings — that, 
glow  which  benevolence  experiences  at  the  sight 
of  any  object  calculated  to  convey  an  idea  of  the 
happiness  and  comfort  of  others,  the  eyes  of  An- 
geline  became  fastened  on  the  Abbey;  but  she 
could  not  long  contemplate  it,  without  emotions 
being  awakened  too  insupportable  to  be  calmly  en- 
dured. In  every  object  round  it,  there  appeared 
an  unusual  air  of  tranquillity ;  the  herds  were  at 
rest,  and  the  sheep,  that  with  them  grouped  the  se- 
questered meads  immediately  at  the  foot  of  the 
cliffs  it  overhung,  cropt  undisturbed  the  luxuriant 
herbage,  while  the  umbrageous  woods  were  scarce- 
ly seen  to  move.  This  tranquillity  formed  too 
striking  a  contrast  to  the  anxiety,  the  unhappiness, 
Angeline  pictured  to  herself,  now  prey  ailing  within 
it,  not  forcibly  to  affect  her  feelings,  especially  ac- 
cusing herself  as  she  did  of  being  the  cause  of  both. 
In  agony  at  the  reflection,  she  retreated  to  the  in- 
terior of  the  pavilion,  where  (lire wing  herself  upon 
a  couch,  she  abandoned  herself  to  tears ;  but  tears 
could  not  relieve  anguish  like  hers ;  to  try  and  di- 


184  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

vert  her  thoughts,  she  took  up  a  book,  but  sht 
knew  not  what  she  read  ;  the  heaviness  of  her 
heart  had  communicated  itself  to  her  senses  ;  long 
want  of  rest,  united  to  the  lulling  sounds  that  here 
met  the  ear,  and  a  kind  of  oppressive  closeness  in 
the  atmosphere,  gradually  occasioned  a  drowsiness 
to  steal  over  her,  the  book  dropped  from  her  hand, 
and  her  head  sunk  back  on  the  arm  of  the 
couch.  Sleep  had  no  sooner  seized  her  faculties, 
than  her  fancy,  free  to  roam,  transported  her 
to  the  delightful  gardens  of  what  she  had  so 
long  considered  her  native  home  at  Loxa;  she  felt 
herself  delighted  by  the  review  of  the  lovely 
scenes  ;  and  yielding  to  their  powerful  influence, 
seated  herself  beneath  a  cypress  bending  over  the 
Genii,  and  taking  up  a  mandolin  she  found  lying  on 
the  ground,  again  awakened  the  wild  echoes  she 
recollected  she  had  so  often  listened  to  with  rap- 
ture :  while  thus  engaged,  she  suddenly  beheld  an 
elegant  figure  in  a  moorish  dress,  descending  a 
neighbouring  declivity ;  she  started  upon  his  ap- 
proach, but  was  prevented  retreating,  by  his  avow- 
ing himself  lord  Hexham,  and  seizing  her  hand, 
which  he  carried  to  his  lips. 

In  her  imaginary  struggle  to  free  it,  she  waked, 
but  with  almost  a  conviction  of  having  in  reality 
felt  kisses  impressed  on  it.  Starting  from  her  re- 
cumbent posture,  she  haslily  advanced  to  the  door, 
but  no  receding  form  there  met  her  view;  that, 
however,  she  was  not  mistaken,  in  fancying  what 
she  imagined  something  more  than  a  dream,  she  was 
soon  convinced,  by  perceiving  a  gentleman's  glove 
on  the  floor,  as  she  was  about  resuming  her  seat ; 
that  it  was  lord  Hexham  who  had  been  there  in- 
stantly struck  her;  to  describe  what  she  experi- 
enced at  the  thought — the  emotions  excited  by  the 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

idea  of  his  having  perhaps  voluntarily  traced  her — 
the  motive  to  which  his  having  done  so  might  be 
imputed,  were  impossible;  now  she  blushed  to 
think  of  being  discovered  by  him  in  so  supine  a 
state — now  bitterly  regretted  not  having  awoke  in 
time  to  express  the  sense  of  obligation  she  felt  to- 
wards him,  and  entreat  he  might  not  let  his  gene- 
rosity carry  him  too  great  lengths  on  her  account ; 
yet  notwithstanding  this  regret,  when  she  thought 
he  might  yet  perhaps  be  lingering  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  place,  with  an  intention  of  returning,  she  felt  a 
kind  of  dread,  that  induced  her  to  determine  on 
immediately  retreating.  Almost  unconsciously 
she  had  taken  up  the  glove,  and  was  descending 
the  steps  with  it,  when,  suddenly  recollecting  her- 
self, she  threw  it  back  into  the  pavilion,  not,  how- 
ever, without  a  soft  sigh,  as  if  she  had  considered 
it  in  the  light  of  a  precious  relic. 

Starting  at  every  sound,  from  the  apprehension 
she  was  under,  she  proceeded  towards  home,  but 
without  encountering  any  one ;  and  in  the  course  of 
the  evening,  from  learning  lord  Hexham's  depar- 
ture, found  she  need  not  be  under  a  similar  one 
again, 

He  was  gone  indeed — gone  without  any  certain 
hope  of  seeing  his  native  home  again !  having  der 
parted,  in  consequence  of  what  happened,  with  a 
determination  of  immediately  effecting  an  exchange 
from  the  Life-Guards,  in  which  he  had  a  commis- 
sion, to  a  regiment  that  should  afford  him  a  chance 
of  being  speedily  ordered  on  actual  service.  Thifc 
was  a  determination,  however,  for  the  present,  he 
resolved  to  conceal,  convinced  its  disclosure  would 
be  an  aggravation  of  the  unhappiness  he  was 
but  too  painfully  aware  of  the  marchioness  ex- 
periencing at  this  crisis :  neither  did  he  choose  to 

VOL.  n.  R 


386  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

avow  his  intention  of  so  directly  quitting  the  Abbey, 
unequal  as  he  felt  himself,  from  the  state  of  mind 
he  was  then  in,  to  any  particular  conversation  with 
any  of  the  family,  such  as  a  parting  interview  was 
naturally  calculated  to  lead  to.     The  precautions 
he  adopted,  for  the  purpose  of  concealing  it,  had 
the  intended  effect,  that  of  preventing  its  being 
suspected ;  ordering  the  carri  ige  to  meet  him  at  a 
particular  place,  he  quilted  the  Abbey  on  foot,  and 
took  his  way  through  the  woods  ;  in  proceeding,  he 
suddenly  found  himself  near  the  retreat  in  vyhich 
Angeline  had  taken  refuge,  and  after  a  momentary 
hesitation,  impelled  by  an  impulse  he  almost  felt 
resistless,  a  faint  hope  perhaps  of  catching  a  fare- 
well glimpse  of  her,  or  discovering  something  that 
might  aid  him  in  ascertaining  what  was  then  passing 
in  her  mind,  he  ascended  to  it ;  what  he  felt  when, 
on  looking  in,  he  actually  beheld  her,  may  easier 
be  conceived  than  described ;  he  started  back  with 
something  of  dismay,   and  for   a  moment  stood 
irresolute,  whether  instantly  to  retreat-or  not,  when, 
perceiving  his  precipitate  movement  had  not  had 
the  effect  of  disturbing  her,  he  was  again  tempted 
to  come  forward,  and  gradually  drawn  towards  the 
couch  on  which  she  slumbered,  his  emotions,  aa  he 
gazed  upon  her,  were  almost  overwhelming — love, 
commiseration,  and  indignation,  each  were  alter- 
nately experienced  in  their  fullest  force,  and  each 
alternately  triumphed  over  every  other  feeling  in 
his  mind;  but  tenderness  remained  the  predomi- 
nant  sensation,    and  through  its  influence   he  was 
almost  tempted  to  suddenly  clasp  her  to  his  bosom, 
and,  resigning  his  original  intension,  make  her  the 
par'ne-of  his  Might  to  some  distant  country. 

Fearful  of  himself  il  he  lingered  long  near  her,  he 
suddenly  stoope -1  dov  i^a:-  d  involuntarily  i???v  e  - 
ing  apasr<ionate  kiss  on  net*  hand,  tore  himself  uwa/. 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  187 


CHAP.  XIV. 

's  eyes  are  not  so  subtle  to  perceive 
My  inward  misery.    I  bear  my  grief 
Hid  from  the  world.  BEAUMONT. 

EVERY  new  proof  of  esteem  she  now  received 
from  the  family  at  the  Abbey  was  like  a  dagger  to 
the  sensitive  heart  of  Angeline,  so  conscious  was 
she  of  being  the  occasion  of  the  interruption  their 
domestic  happiness  had  so  evidently  received,  so 
aware  of  the  light  in  which  she  should  be  regarded 
by  them,  did  they  ever  attain  a  knowledge  of  the 
truth.  Gladly,  from  this  consciousness,  would 
she  have  avoided  their  society,  could  she  possibly 
have  invented  any  pretext  for  the  purpose ;  but 
without  appearing  equally  hurt  by  the  conduct  of 
lord  Hexham,  and  consequently  heightening  their 
resentment  at  it,  she  knew  she  could  not  do  so. 
To  prevent  an  idea  of  the  kind,  her  father  kept 
up  a  more  constant  intercourse  than  ever  at  the 
Abbey,  accepting  the  marchioness's  offer  of  intro- 
ducing her  into  life,  and  agreeing  to  accompany 
the  family,  for  the  purpose,  after  Christmas,  to 
town. 

To  their  mutual  arrangements  Angeline  listened, 
not  merely  with  indifference,  but  a  sensation  of 
terror,  not  merely  from  the  continued  restraint 
they  were  calculated  to  impose  on  her  feelings, 
but  a  dismaying  apprehension  that  now  pervaded 
her  mind,  of  being  in  a  situation  that  would  render 
it  impossible  for  her  to  appear  much  longer  in  com- 
pany, without  risking  a  discovery  she  dreaded, 
that  would  doom  her  to  hide  herself  for  the  remain- 
der of  her  life  in  obscuritv,  should  she  4*e  unable 


188  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

to  substantiate  her  claim  to  the  title  of  a  wife.— 
Yielding  to  it,  she  resolved  on  writing  still  more 
urgently  than  before  to  Miss  Roscrea,  for  whatever 
information  she  could  give  her  concerning  Villiers; 
with  a  determination  of  confiding  in  St.  Ruth, 
should  she  not  hear  by  the  expected  time  from  her, 
or  receive  a  satisfactory  answer ;  and  imploring 
him  to  hasten  to  her,  for  the  purpose  of  aiding  her 
with  his  advice,  and  supporting  her  in  the  trying 
scenes  that  must  then  ensue  with  her  father. 

The  silence  of  Mrs.  Dillon  to  the  letter  she  had 
addressed  to  her,  expressive  of  a  wish  for  a  cer- 
tificate of  her  marriage,  almost  confirmed  her  worst 
fears.  Ax  to  Miss  Roscrea's,  relative  to  her  si- 
lence, the  letter  which,  about  the  same  time,  she 
had  sent  her,  she  concluded  it  owing  either  to  her 
being  unable  to  give  her  the  information  she  re- 
quired, or  else  being  too  much  engrossed  with 
company  to  be  able  to  think  of  attending  to  it ;  but 
the  still  more  urgent  manner  in  which  she  now  ad- 
dressed her,  would  have  the  desired  effect,  she 
trusted ;  if  not,  the  idea  of  the  decision  she  had 
come  to  v/as  some  little  relief  to  her  tortured  mind. 
On  the  aid,  the  counsel,  the  tenderness  of  St. 
Ruth,  she  fondly  knew  she  might  rely;  and  as- 
sured of  the  support  of  such  a  friend,  she  could 
not  abandon  herself  to  utter  despair. 

With  a  degree  of  agonizing  impatience,  how- 
ever, she  counted  the  days  that  must  intervene 
ere  she  could  hope  to  receive  an  answer  from  Miss 
Roscrea.  The  period  did  not  arrive  without  rea- 
lizing the  expectation  she  had  suffered  herself  to 
indulge  :  at  the  expected  time  a  letter  came,  but 
not,  as  she  had  flattered  herself  would  be  the  case, 
an  explicit  one;  still,  however,  it  was  sufficiently 
*o  to  prevent  her  carrying  her  resolution  relative 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  J8Q 

to  St.  Ruth  immediately  into  effect,  Miss  Roscrea 
informing  her,  that  the  prospect  she  beheld  of  an 
almost  immediate  meeting,  being,  at  the  moment  of 
writing,  almost  on  the  eve  of  accompanying  lady 
Rosamond  on  a  visit  to  the  Abbey,  induced  her  to 
decide  on  deferring  till  then  giving  her  the  informa- 
tion she  desired,  from  the  conviction  of  being  then 
able  to  give  it  in  a  much  more  satisfactory  manner. 
But  the  hope  she  thus  suggested  was  of  a  delu- 
sive nature,  intended  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining 
the  full  confidence  of  Angeline,  from  the  agitated 
and  urgent  style  of  whose  second  fetter,  she  was 
convinced  something  more  than  she  was  yet  aware 
of  had  occurred  respecting  lord  Hexham.  Her 
silence  to  her  previous  one  was  owing  to  her  being 
loo  wise,  or  rather  too  wary,  to  commit  herself  to 
paper.  In  the  imaginary  proof  it  afforded  of  his 
desertion,  she  exultingly  triumphed  ;  but  she  could 
no  longer  do  so  on  the  receipt  of  her  second,  from 
the  information  it  contained,  or  rather  the  alarm 
excited  by  that  information.  Till  then  she  was  in 
ignorance  of  the  change  that  had  taken  place  in 
the  prospects  of  Angeline,  owing  to  the  distracted 
state  of  mind  in  which  her  first  letter  was  written, 
rendering  her  unable  to  touch  on  any  subject  but 
that  which  it  was  immediately  essential  to  her  to 
address  her  on,  and  her  besides  deeming  it  unne- 
cessary, from  being  in  expectation  of  an  answer 
from  her,  ere  she  should  be  obliged  to  depart ;  but 
now,  on  many  accounts,  she  considered  an  ex- 
planation requisite ;  and  not  without  equal  envy 
and  dismay  could  Miss  Roscrea  hear  of  the  rank 
to  which  she  was  elevated,  and  her  being  not  mere- 
ly in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  lord  Hexham,  but 
habits  of  the  strictest  intimacy  with  his  family. 
True,  her  letter  was  an  evidence  of  his  still  re- 


i90  MONASTERY  OF  ST. 

maining  prepossessed  with  a  belief  of  her 
thiness ;  but  ardent  in  his  feelings,  exposed  again 
to  her  attractions,  beholding  her  still  more  than 
ever  entitled  to  admiration,  was  it  not  more  than 
possible  that  it  might  yet  fail  of  influencing  his 
-conduct  ?  at  the  bare  surmise,  the  remote  sugges- 
tion, her  very  brain  became  heated;  and  again  she 
resolved  on  having  recourse  to  plotting,  to  try  and 
prevent  what  she  dreaded. 

After  a  little  deliberation,  the  best  plan  that 
could  be  devised  for  the  purpose,  she  conceived, 
would  be  to  apprize  the  marquis  and  marchioness 
of  Angeline's  being  the  identical  individual  whom 
they  had  such  reason  to  deem  unworthy  of  the  re- 
gard of  their  son,  persuaded,  if  once  enlightened 
on  the  subject,  they  would  take  effectual  measures 
for  preventing  the  realization  of  the  apprehension 
she  could  not  now  avoid  giving  way  to. 

Angeline  had  candidly  informed  her,  that  owing 
to  her  uncertainty  of  the  manner  in  which  her  la- 
dyship might  speak  of  her,  she  had  forborne  men- 
tioning to  the  family  her  having  any  acquaintance 
with  lady  Rosamond ;  and  of  her  acknowledged  si- 
lence on  this  head,  Miss  Roscrea  resolved  to  take 
the  basest  advantage — resolved  to  manage  matters 
HO  as  to  make  it  appear  the  effect  of  conscious  guilt 
and  apprehension. 

The  ascendancy  which  her  affecting  to  espouse 
her  cause  against  Roscrea  had  given  her  over  lady 
Kosamond,  induced  her  to  believe  she  Should  find 
no  difficulty  in  rendering  her  instrumental  to  the 
furtherance  of  her  schemes.  The  hope  was  not  an 
erroneous  one ;  consciously,  lady  Rosamond  would 
net  have  suffered  resentment  to  betray  her  into 
baseness  ;  but  the  moment  we  give  up  our  minds 
fo  the  guidance  of  others,  the  moment  we  cea?r 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMN.  101 

appealing  to  our  own  reason,  from  that  moment  we 
render  ourselves  liable  to  deceit  and  treachery. 

Ere  lady  Rosamond  in  any  degree  recovered 
from  the  agony  into  which  she  was  thrown  by  the 
confirmation  of  her  suspicions  on  seeing  .Angeline 
at  Clontarf,  a  considerable  time  elapsed  ;  at  length 
the  friendly  soothings  of  the  colonel,  and  the  art- 
ful ones  of  Miss  Koscrea,  had  the  intended  effect, 
that  of  restoring  her  to  some  degree  of  composure  ; 
or  rather  the  positive  assurance  given  her  by  the 
former,  of  entering  into  such  an  immediate  expostu- 
lation with  Roscrea,  relative  to  the  impropriety  of 
his  conduct,  as  would,  he  doubted  not,  succeed  in 
making  him  at  once  sensible  and  repentant  of  it. 

This  was  a  promise,  however,  which  Miss  Roscrea, 
was  determined  he  should  not  fulfil,  if  in  her  pow- 
er to  prevent  him,  aware  that  an  explanation  could 
not  be  entered  into  with  Roscrea,  without  the  com- 
plete frustration,  if  not  development,  of  her  plots 
being  risked,  from  the  opportunity  it  would  afford 
him  of  vindicating  his  innocence  Accordingly, 
when,  on  their  return  to  Leixlip,  she  had  the  power 
of  speaking  alone  to  the  colonel  on  the  subject,  she 
used  such  arguments  to  dissuade  him  from  adher- 
ing to  it,  as,  at  length,  had  the  effect  of  inducing 
him  to  relinguish  it,  representing  to  him,  from  the 
warmth  of  Roscrea's  temper,  the  extreme  probabil- 
ity there  was  of  his  resenting  his  interference,  in 
a  manner  that  might  lead  to  the  most  fatal  conse- 
quences ;  and  imploring  him,  therefore,  for  her  sake, 
and  on  account  of  the  person  for  whom  he  was  so 
deeply  interested ,  to  let  her  be  the  person  to  admonish 
him  of  his  error.  But  to  impose  silence  to  him  on  the 
subject  was  not  sufficient,  without  also  obtaining  an 
assurance  of  it  from  lady  Rosamond ;  this  she 
found  much  greater  difficulty  in  doing  ;  the  indig- 
nation of  her  mind,  at  Jier  imagined  injuries,  being 


19&  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

too  great  rot  fo  render  her  impatient  for  an  oppor- 
tunity of  giving  utterence  to  her  irritated  feelings  ; 
but  at  length  her  art  again  triumphed  here,  as  in 
the  preceding  instance.  She  so  completely  suc- 
ceeded in  persuading  lady  Rosamond,  that  leaving 
Roscrea  to  the  upbraidings  of  his  own  guilty  mind, 
without  deigning  to  come  to  any  explanation  with 
him,  would  have  a  more  immediate  and  severe  ef- 
fect upon  him  than  any  she  could  possibly  have  re- 
course to,  as  to  induce  her  to  promise  what  she 
required.  She  attempted  not,  however,  to  oppose 
lier  avowed  determination  of  letting  him  perceive,  by 
her  manner,  she  was  not  quite  so  easily  deceived  as 
she  concluded  he  conceived ;  on  the  contrary  she 
rather  strengthened  her  in  this  resolution,  from  a 
hope,  by  its  offending  him,  which  she  was  perfectly 
aware  of  its  being  calculated  to  do,  of  its  occasion- 
ing a  temporary  separation  between  them,  a  cir- 
cumstance she  was  now  particularly  anxious  for,  in 
order  to  be  relieved  from  the  agitating  apprehen- 
sion she  should  otherwise  continue  under,  of  a  pre- 
mature explanation  taking  place  between  them,  and 
to  have  a  pretext  for  postponing  her  marriage  with 
the  colonel,  should  he  become  importunate  for  its 
celebration,  ere  the  termination  of  her  incertitude 
with  regard  to  lord  Hexham  ;  for  from  the  unset- 
tled state  in  which,  in  that  case,  the  family  would 
appear,  he  would  not  conceive  it  surprising,  she 
conceived,  her  deeming  the  whole  of  her  attention 
required  by  lady  Rosamond. 

Every  thing  succeeded  as  she  wished  :  the  first 
inquiry  of  Roscrea,  on  his  returning  from  the  place 
to  which,  as  may  be  recollected,  for  the  purpose  of 
getting  him  out  of  the  way,  she  had  been  the  means 
of  sending  him,  was  after  lady  Rosamond,  on 
not  finding  her,  as  he  expected,  in  the  dining- 
room. 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  JQS 

With  a  negligent  air,  in  order  to  keep  up  appear- 
ances before  the  colonel,  with  whom  she  had  dined 
itle-a-ttle,  Miss  Roscrea  replied,  that,  cornplain- 
iug  of  a  headache,  she  was  gone  to  lie  down.  To 
her  chamber,  without  pausing  to  take  any  refresh- 
ment, Roscrea  hastened  on  hearing  this :  in  the 
dressing-room,  through  which  he  was  obliged  to 
pass  to  it,  he  found  her  woman  sitting  with  a  book; 
she  started  up  on  seeing  him,  an  don  his  approach- 
ing the  door,  hastily  stepped  before  him,  declaring 
he  must  not  enter. 

Roscrea,  stopping  short,  involuntarily  repeated 
her  words,  and  intently  surveying  her,  demanded 
why? 

Because  her  lady  had  given  orders  ta  that  effect, 
she  replied. 

'  Oh  yes,  I  know/  Roscrea  returned,  '  being 
indisposed,  to  the  exclusion  of  every  one  but  me/ 

No,  she  pertly  replied,  he  was  mistaken  ;  it  was 
not  to  the  exclusion  of  any  one  but  him,  and  pass 
therefore  he  should  not 

Again  Roscrea  repeated  her  words,  with  some- 
thing like  a  look  of  admiration  at  her  manner  ;  then, 
not  very  ceremoniously,  taking  her  by  the  shoulder, 
he  attempted  to  pass  her  ;  but  she  resisted — a 
struggle  ensued — and  in  the  midst  of  it,  the  door 
opened,  and  lady  Rosamond  came  forth.  Instant- 
ly dismissing  her  abigail,  she  turned  with  an  assum- 
ed air  of  disdainful  calmness  to  Roscrea,  for  her 
heart  throbbed  wildly  at  the  moment,  and  every 
nerve  was  in  a  state  of  agitation,  and  expressed  a 
wish  that  he  had  suffered  himself  to  attend  to  the 
message  she  had  left  for  him. 

*  Your  woman  was  correct  then  ?'  said  Roscrea, 
beginning  to  survey  her  as  he  had  a  minute  before 
her  attendant. 


1'94  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

'  Perfectly,'  in  the  same  affected  tone  she  had 
just  spoken ;  '  she  but  obeyed  my  orders  in  the 
manner  in  which  she  acted  :  and  further,  1  desired 
her  to  inform  you,  what  you  did  not  afford  her  an 
opportunity  of  doing,  that  1  had  directed  another 
chamber  to  be  prepared  for  you/ 

'  Indeed  !  and  pray/  endeavouring  to  curb  his 
rising  passion,  his  inability  to  account  for  her 
behaviour  rendering  it  still  more  calculated  to  irri- 
tate, '  may  I  ask  to  what  your  being  so  condescend- 
ing was  owing  ?' 

*  1  do  not  deem  it  necessary  to  explain.     The 
sge  is  past  in  which  wives  conceived  it  requisite  to 
account  to  husbands  for  every  whim ;  besides,  to 
give  you  room  for  conjecture,  will  be  to  find  amuse- 
ment for  your  imagination/ 

*  How  vastly  kind !'  again  said  Roscrea  ironically: 
'  in  return,  to  shew  you  what  a  complaisant  hus- 
band 1  am,  1  shall  not  press  the  inquiry  further ;  but 
presuming  the  directions  you  have  avowed  owing  to 
a  fear  of  sometimes  being  unseasonably  intruded 
on,  in  order  to  releave  you  from  it,  I  shall  immedi- 
ately depart  hence;  not  without  carrying  with  me 
a  pleased  recollection  of  your  present  conduct, 
and  reflecting  on  the  happiness  it  would  afford  the 
marchioness  to  find,  by  it,  how  much  you  had  profit- 
ed by  her  precepts  and  example/ 

*  Cruel,  insolent !'  exclaimed  lady  Rosamond,  no 
longer  able  to  control  herself ;  but  the  expressions 
were  lost  upon  him,  having  abruptly  quitted  the 
room  as  he  concluded  the  last  sentence,  '  is  this 
the  way,  by  irony  and  reproach,  he   attempts  to 
disarm  me  of  resentment,   and  extenuate  his  con- 
duct f  but  he  shall  find  1  know,  in  every  instance 
what  h  due  to  me — shall  find  that  1  have  not  only 
penetration  sufScieat  to  discover  his  perfidy,  but 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  iQJ 

spirit  to  resent  it — shall  find  I  am  not  one  of  those 
tame  acquiescent  fools  that  are  to  be  neglected  and 
insulted  with  impunity  ;  no,  never  till  i  behold  him 
humbled,  as  well  as  contrite,  shall  my  present  tone 
be  varied  to  him  ;  if  I  cannot  awaken  to  remorse,  1 
will,  at  least,  have  the  gratification  of  wounding  by 
contempt ' 

.But  notwithstanding  these  resolves,  acute  was 
the  pang  she  experienced  when  she  in  reality  found 
him  gone.  Hitherto  accustomed  to  have  every 
little  pettish  humour  soothed,  to  see  him  unhappy 
if  she  manifested  any  thing  like  coolness  .towards 
him,  she  had  no  idea  that  he  would  have  carried  his 
threat  into  effect — no  idea  that  he  would  not  have 
afforded  her  the  exquisite  pleasure  of  seeing  him 
quickly  return  to  sue  for  and  implore  a  reconcil- 
iation. 

This  he  would  most  readily  have  done,  had  he 
been  conscious  of  having  offended,  had  any  thing; 
like  self-condemnation  mingled  with  the  indignation 
she  excited ;  but  perfectly  acquitted  by  his  own  feel- 
ings, he  could  not  tamely  brook  her  conduct — could 
not  think  of  submitting  to  what,  in  consequence, 
appeared  the  mere  tyranny  of  caprice,  an  effort  to 
subjugate  his  reason  to  her  control. 

In  hurry  ing  from  the  apartment,  to  give  .orders, 
for  his  immediate  departure,  he  encountered  jMiss 
Roscrea.  Pretending  not  to  notice  his  agitated  air, 
she  inquired  whether  he  was  not  coming  to  join  her 
and  the  colonel  in  the  parlour  ? — *  No,'  he  replied; 
*  you  must  make  my  excuses  to  him,  for  1  am  under 
a  necessity  of  directly  setting  off  for  town.' 

1  Good  Heavens!'  she  no\v  exclaimed,  with  an 
air  of  well  counterfeited  surprise,  conceiving  she 
might  safely  avail  herself  of  this  opening;  to  follow 
up  her  plans,  '  what  is  the  matter  ?  Now  that  I 


I9t>  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

look  more  attentively  at  you,  it  seems  to  me  as  if 
something  had  happened  to  disturb  you.' 

€  Rather  let  me  ask  of  you  what  is  the  matter/ 
he  returned  with  forced  calmness ;  *  for  you  may 
perhaps  be  able  to  account  for  the  humour  in  which 
1  have  found  lady  Rosamond  ?' 

His  allusion  to  this  was  what  Miss  Roscrea  re- 
quired. Shrugging  her  shoulders,  and  shaking  her 
head — *  Some  new  whim  relative  to  Miss  De  Burgh, 
I  am  afraid/  she  said. 

Roscrea  started.  '  Good  God  !'  he  indignantly 
exclaimed,  '  does  she  then  persevere  in  her  unjus- 
tifiable suspicions  respect  ing  her  ?' 

Again  Miss  Roscrea  significantly  shook  her 
head. — *  Then,  by  Heavens !'  he  resumed,  still 
more  irritated,  '  nothing  shall  induce  me  to  return 
here,  till  convinced  she  has  subdued  them.  I  will 
not  degrade  Miss  De  Burgh  nor  myself  by  any  at- 
tempt to  convince  her  of  their  injustice ;  nor  sub- 
mit to  be  -the  slave  of  a  person  who  chooses  to  fol- 
low the  changes  of  the  moon  with  fresh  surmises/ 

'  1  certainly  cannot  wonder  at  your  being  irritat- 
ed/ artfully  returned  Miss  Roscrea;  *  neither  at- 
tempt to  dissuade  you  from  persevering  in  the  de- 
termination you  have  avowed,  since  I  am  not  with- 
out hopes  that  some  little  appearance  of  resent- 
ment will  have  a  happy  effect  on  lady  Rosamond; 
not  immediately,  however,  1  rather  apprehend,  so 
rooted  are  the  prejudices  to  which  she  has  given 
way ;  but  rely  on  it,  my  arguments  shall  not  be 
wanting  to  convince  her  of  her  error ;  and  these, 
united  to  the  unhappiness  your  absence  must  occa- 
sion her,  the  consequences  she  may  anticipate  from 
a  lengthened  separation,  will  gradually,  I  trust,  re- 
store her  to  reflection.' 

'  Most  fervently  1  hope  PO/  returned  Roscrea  ;2 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  1ft? 

*  since  assuredly  while  my  domestic  happiness  con- 
tinues interrupted,  I  must  remain  a  stranger  to  real 
tranquillity.  Exclusive  of  every  feeling  for  her, 
the  continuance  of  any  thing  unpleasant  would  fill 
me  with  regret,  on  account  of  her  amiable  family, 
to  whom  1  know  the  knowledge  of  it  would  be  a 
source  of  real  unhappiness.  Nothing,  1  trust,  will 
transpire  to  occasion  them  uneasiness,  In  order  to 
avoid  giving  lady  Rosamond  any  additional  cause 
for  disquiet,  or  exciting  a  suspicion  of  any  misun- 
derstanding between  us,  1  shall  not  pause  in  town, 
but  hasten  through  it,  to  my  friend  Rochfort's 
house,  at  the  Curragh,  where,  in  my  name,  you 
may  assure  her,  the  slightest  intimation  of  her 
wish  for  my  return  will  find  me  anxious  for  it/ 

Miss  Roscrea  faitlifully  promised  to  say  all  that 
he  wished,  but,  as  may  be  surmised,  from  what 
has  been  previously  stated,  without  the  slightest 
intention  of  fulfilling  her  word;  to  have  adhered 
to  it,  indeed,  would  have  been  like  Penelope,  to 
have  undone  in  one  hour  the  work  of  the  preced- 
ing, since  to  have  brought  about  an  immediate  re- 
conciliation between  the  offended  pair,  would  have 
been  to  prevent  the  final  accomplishment  of  her 
plans. 

Her  anxiety  for  their  present  separation  was 
occasioned  not  merely  by  a  dread  of  an  immediate 
explanation  between  them,  but  a  hope  that  it  might 
be  a  means  of  inducing  lady  Rosamond  to  repair 
to  St.  Cuthbert's,  and  thus  affording  her  a  fair  op- 
portunity of  trying  the  effect  of  her  attract  ions  on 
lord  Hexham  !  for  without  her  she  was  convinced 
she  would  not  go,  in  consequence  of  the  ascen- 
dancy she  had  now  obtained  over  her,  from  being 
her  sole  confident  arid  adviser. 

To  persuade  her  to  this,  she  however  found 

VOL.  II.  S 


198  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

rather  a  difficult  matter,  BO  much  did  she  sigh  for  a 
reconciliation  with  Roscrea,  and  so  unwilling  was 
she  that  her  family  should  participate  in  the  unhap- 
piness  his  imagined  culpability  occasioned  her ;  but 
she  was  at  length  brought  to  decide  on  the  measure, 
The  alarm  excited  in  the  mind  of  Miss  Roscrea  by 
the  receipt  of  Angeline's  letter,  rendering  her  still 
more  solicitous  than  ever  to  prevail  on  her  to  do  so, 
she  had  recourse  to  falsehood  for  the  purpose ;  af- 
ter acquainting  her  with  the  unexpected  change  in 
the  situation  of  Angeline,  the  knowledge  of  which 
she  pretended  she  obtained  by  chance,  she  pro- 
ceeded to  inform  her,  that  by  the  same  means  she 
had  discovered  it  was  the  intention  of  Roscrea  to 
pay  an  immediate  visit  to  England  on  her  account 
— '  In  order,  therefore,  to  prevent  this,  or  rather 
the  renewal  of  an  intercourse  so  inimical  to  your 
happiness,  'tis  my  advice  to  you,'  she  added,  « im- 
mediately to  proceed  thither  yourself,  and  in  the 
letter  you  address  to  the  marchioness,  to  acquaint 
her  with  your  intention,  candidly  inform  her  who 
the  daughter  of  her  old  friend  really  was,  a  circum- 
stance, rely  upon  it,  the  family  at  the  Abbey  are 
ignorant  of,  from  the  manner  in  which  her  ladyship 
has  mentioned  her  to  you ;  for  from  some  certain 
ones,  not  necessary  now  to  explain,  I  am  firmly 
persuaded,  did  they  know  she  was  the  Miss  De 
Burgh  who  was  once  youi*  guest,  their  sentiments 
respecting  her  would  be  of  a  very  different  nature. 
To  disclose  your  having  any  particular  cause  for 
prejudice  against  her,  must,  1  am  perfectly  aware, 
be  unpleasant,  from  the  inquiries  it  will  naturally 
excite;  but,  notwithstanding,  you  must  do  so,  lest 
in  some  chance  visit  to  the  Abbey  hereafter  by 
himself,  Roscrea  should  take  advantage  of  their 
ignorance  on  the  subject,  to  profit  by  his  vicinity 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  199 

to  her.  Be  assured  it  is  with  equal  reluctance  and 
regret  I  advise  you  to  any  measure  calculated  to 
lessen  him  in  the  esteem  of  his  friends ;  but  I  should 
conceive  myself  unworthy  of  the  confidence  you 
have  reposed  in  me,  did  I  suffer  any  consideration 
for  him  to  influence  me  with  regard  to  you ;  besides, 
I  am  not  without  hopes,  that  a  hint  of  what  has 
passed  to  your  family  may  be  attended  with  pleas- 
ing consequences^-may  lead  to  some  gentle  reraon  - 
strance,  that  may  have  a  happy  effect.' 

Thus  artfully  she  argued  and  persuaded,  until  at 
length  she  obtained  the  promise  she  required — a 
promise  that  was  no  sooner  granted,  than,  to  relieve 
herself  from  all  apprehension  of  its  being  retracted, 
she  made  lady  Rosamond  write  the  letter  she  had 
previously  dictated. 

She  was  not  without  some  little  dread  of  her 
meditated  journey  being  objected  to  by  the  colo- 
nel ;  but  on  announcing  it  to  him,  was  pleased  to 
find  she  had  disquieted  herself  without  cause ;  it 
was  to  him,  indeed,  from  the  revolution  in  his  senti- 
ments, a  matter  of  joy  instead  of  regret.  As  to 
O'Roon,  she  had,  by  this  time,  entangled  him  in  a 
flirtation  with  her  friend  Mrs.  Ogle,  so  that  from 
him  she  had  nothing  to  apprehend. 

She  was  not,  however,  without  an  apprehension 
of  some  attempt  from  Roscrea  to  prevent  it,  if 
aware  of  it ;  and  took  care  therefore  to  keep  him 
in  ignorance  on  the  subject,  till  too  late  for  him  to 
make  the  effort  she  feared. 

The  astonishment  excited  at  the  Abbey  by  the 
information  contained  in  lady  Rosamund's  letter, 
may  easily  be  conceived — the  astonishment  occa- 
sioned by  learning  that  Angeline,  apparently  so 
amiable,  so  interestingly  lovely,  so  universally 
admired,  was  the  identical  being  whom  there 
was  such  just  grounds  for  deeming  unworthy 


200  MONASTERY    0F    ST.    COLUME. 

€>f  the  alliance  of  an  honourable  house ;  but  a  sim- 
ple emotion  was  not  all  the  discovery  excited ;  it 
led  to  the  elucidation  of  various  circumstances 
which  had  previously  seemed  equally  strange  and 
reprehensible,  and  which  could  not  be  explained 
wi'hcut  awakening;  complicated  feelings.  All  that 
had  recently  appeared  perplexing  and  censurable 
in  the  conduct  of  lord  Hexfeam,  was  now  account- 
ed for — accounted  for  in  a  way  that  rendered  him 
mr/re  estimable  than  ever  in  the  eyes  of  his  family, 
Nothing  could  surpass  their  admiration  of  it,  as- 
cribing it,  as  they  did,  to  real  generosity  and  refine- 
ment. Again  the  marquis  gloried  in  the  title  of  his 
father— again  his  heart  swelled  with  parental  joy 
and  transport — '  And  on  account  of  such  a  being/ 
lie  suddenly  exclaimed,  alluding  to  the  unhappy 
Angeline,  *  have  1  exiled  my  noble  boy  his  pater- 
nal roof — have  1  driven  him  from  the  bosom  of  his 
family !  Oh,  how  do  1  long  to  make  amends  for 
the  past ! — how  to  press  him  again  to  my  heart ! — 
how  to  apologize  for  all  1  uttered!  What  delicacy, 
what  feeling,  to  prefer  incurring  reproaches  himself, 
to  betraying  the  object  he  once  thought  deserving 
of  his  tenderness,  the  daughter  of  his  friend,  to 
censure!  Oh!  may  he  yet  meet  with  a  heart  suf- 
ficiently rich  in  virtue  to  recompense  him  for  all  he 
has  recently  £one  through!  But,  poor  Clanronel, 
unhappy  friend,  the  exultation  I  now  feel  but  aug- 
ments my  sympathy  for  you.  Alas !  truly  has  it  in- 
deed been  said,  that  we  know  not  what  we  wish  for ; 
how  incessant  were  your  prayers  for  the  restoration 
of  your  child ! — how  pure  the  happiness  you  con- 
ceived you  must  enjoy,  should  ahe  ever  be  restor- 
ed to  you!  your  wishes  have  been  accomplished; 
but  what  misery  have  you  yet  experienced  equal 
to  the  misery  you  may  yet  be  destined  to  endure, 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  201 

through  the  circumstance,  depending,  as  your 
peace  now  does,  through  her  means,  on  a  very 
breath  !  one  word,  and  your  fabric  of  felicity  sinks 
in  the  dust/  But  although  the  idea  of  any  further 
association  with  hep  was  now  painful  in  the  extreme, 
yet  in  order  to  prevent  a  suspicion  of  the  truth  in 
the  mind  of  the  unfortunate  father,  it  was  decided 
the  same  intercourse  as  usual  should  be  kept  up  at 
Rooksdale ;  that  is,  if  the  feelings  of  lady  Rosa- 
mond, during  her  stay  at  the  Abbey,  would  permit 
it ;  for  though  she  had  not  been  explicit,  yet  the 
terms  in  which  she  expressed  herself,  relative  to 
Angeline,  united  to  the  circumstance  of  her  not  be- 
ing accompanied  in  her  present  visit  by  Roscrea, 
had  strongly  tended  to  excite  the  belief  Miss  Ros- 
crea wished  to  inspire,  a  belief  that  could  not  be 
yielded  to  without  a  pang  sufficiently  acute  to  les- 
sen the  transport  of  the  preceding  moment — *  But 
thus  is  human  happiness  chequered,'  said  the  mar- 
quis, with  a  sigh,  at  the  imagined  infelicity  of  his 
beloved  child;  '  the  cup  of  bliss  is  seldom  without 
alloy/ 

The  reflection  of  the  probable  estrangement  of 
lord  Hexhain  from  the  Abbey  on  her  account,  sug- 
gested another  motive  of  regret,  for  the  necessity 
they  deemed  themselves  under  of  keeping  up  the 
asual  appearance  of  friendliness  at  Rooksdale ;  but 
notwithstanding  this,  they  persevered  in  their  de- 
termination of  doing  so,  lest  any  alteration  in  their 
manner  should  lead  to  a  suspicion  that  must  be  fatal 
to  the  repose  of  their  valued  friend. 

Lady  Rosamond's  letter  and  Miss  Roscrea's 
arrived  at  the  same  time ;  and  though  somewhat 
cheered  by  the  hope  suggested  by  the  latter,  yet 
not  without  a  strong  feeling  of  disquietude,  could 
Angeline  reflect  on  the  whole  of  its  contents,  so 
s  2 


MONASTERY  OF   ST.  COLUMN. 

agitating  was  the  idea  of  lady  Rosamond's  ap- 
proaching visit  to  the  Abbey,  from  the  indignant 
resentment  she  still  experienced  towards  her,  and 
the  construction  she  began  to  reflect  might  be  put 
on  the  concealment  she  had  hitherto  observed  re- 
lative to  their  acquaintance,  a  circumstance  so  na- 
tural for  her  to  have  mentioned,  on  such  terms  of 
intimacy  as  she  was  with  her  family,  that  she  could 
not  help  dreading  her  silence  concerning  it  being 
interpreted  to  her  disadvantage,  and  consequently 
wishing  she  had  been  explicit  in  the  first  instance  : 
but  as  she  had  not  been  so,  she  now  conceived  her 
most  advisable  plan  would  be  still  to  maintain  the 
silence  she  regretted,  until  she  had  an  opportunity 
of  consulting  with  Miss  Roscrea  on  the  subject, 
who,  if  any  one  could,  would,  she  believed,  be  able 
to  extricate  her  from  the  dilemma  in  which  she 
found  herself. 

With  her  father  she  was  engaged  this  day  to 
dinner  at  the  Abbey.  They  found  a  select  party 
there  ;  and  while  at  table,  Angeline  had  no  oppor- 
tunity of  making  any  painful  observations;  but 
scarcely  did  she  find  herself  again  in  the  drawing- 
room,  ere  she  was  struck  by  an  air  of  constraint 
and  coldness  in  the  manner  of  both  the  marchion- 
ess and  lady  Mara;  a  certain  consciousness  made 
her  instantly  take  alarm  at  the  circumstance; 
trembling  and  dismayed,  she  shrunk  almost  within 
herself,  wishing,  vainly  wishing  for  a  pretext  for 
immediately  departing.  Had  they  then  a  suspi- 
cion of  the  truth  f  Had  the  keen  penetration  of 
the  marchioness  enabled  her  to  develop  her  secret  ? 
Oh,  how  did  her  heart  sink  at  the  idea — how  did 
her  cheek  alternately  fade  and  flush  at  the  surmise ! 
and  how,  but  for  the  hope  inspired  by  Miss  Ros- 
crea's  letter,  how  but  for  her  firm  reliance  on  the 


MONASTERY  Ot  ST    COLUMB.  203 

exertions  of  St.  Ruth,  if  at  length  compelled  to 
apply  to  him,  would  she  have  been  able  to  have 
supported  herself  beneath  it !  The  more  critical 
were  her  observations,  the  more  she  was  confirmed 
in  the  persuasion  of  some  idea  to  her  prejudice 
having  arisen  in  the  minds  of  the  marchioness  and 
her  daughter ;  all  their  wonted  warmth  was  gone  : 
true,  they  were  still  attentive,  even  more  strictly 
so  than  ever ;  but,  alas !  this  was  a  circumstance 
that  only  tended  still  more  to  strengthen  her  ago- 
nizing belief;  for  well  she  remembered  at  the  mo- 
ment  these  lines  of  Shakspeare,  that  when  friend- 
ship is  on  the  decline,  it  ever  used  an  enforced 
ceremony — '  But  should  I  lose  their  regard,'  she 
mentally  demanded;  '  were  the  exact  truth  known 
to  them,  oh !  would  not  their  kindness  be  rather 
augmented  than  diminished  by  a  knowledge  of  it  ? 
Why  not  reveal  to  them  then  my  unhappy  situa- 
tion ?  Why  not  entrust  to  their  keeping  the  secret 
that  weighs  upon  my  heart  ?  Yet  should  I  be  mis- 
taken— should  the  marchioness  doubt  my  sincerity 
— or  should  she  deem  my  confession  a  partial  one, 
from  tiie  natural  proneness  we  all  have  to  palliate 
our  errors,  how  cruelly  would  then  my  wretched- 
ness be  aggravated !  besides,  she  might  deem  it 
incumbent  on  her  to  communicate  such  a  confession 
to  my  father ;  and  how  could  I  support  his  know- 
ledge of  my  situation,  while  in  such  a  state  of  ig- 
norance and  incertitude  respecting  Villiers!'  On 
silence,  therefore,  for  the  present,  on  the  subject, 
she  still  persevered  in  determining,  to  all  but  Miss 
Roscrea. 

Of  the  additional  cause  for  unhappiness  they 
afforded  her,  the  marchioness  nor  lady  Mara  were 
perfectly  conscious;  they  could  not  prevail  on 
themselves  to  treat  her  with  their  wonted  warmth  ; 


§04  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    C.OLUMB. 

but  they  flattered  themselves  encreased  attention 
would  veil  the  alteration  in  their  sentiments.  Con- 
ceiving this,  they  were  led  to  believe,  from  re- 
maining in  ignorance  of  the  real  cause  of  it,  that 
her  too  evident  agitation  was  occasioned  by  her 
dread  of  encountering  lady  Rosamond,  from  the 
particulars  it  was  in  her  power  to  impart  respect- 
ing her,  and  the  suspicious  light  in  which  they  con- 
cluded she  must  be  conscious  her  having  concealed 
their  acquaintance  musLplace  her  The  emotion 
she  could  not  avoid  betraying  at  the  mention  of 
her  name,  which,  from  the  public  announcement 
of  her  intended  visit,  was  more  than  once  intro- 
duced in  the  course  of  the  evening,  did  not  tend 
to  lessen  this  belief;  on  the  contrary,  it  had  the 
effect  of  completely  confirming  it. 

On  joining  the  party  in  the  drawing-room,  with 
the  rest  of  the  gentlemen,  Clanronel  was  instantly 
struck  by  the  deep  dejection  of  Angeliue's  looks, 
and  still  more,  if  possible,  by  seeing  her  sitting 
with  an  appearance  of  total  neglect,  by  herself. 
She  had  been  ceremoniously  asked  to  take  a  seat  at 
the  piano,  but  declined  it,  and  rejoiced  at  a  pre- 
text for  avoiding  even  a  moment's  conversation 
with  her;  the  marchioness  and  lady  Mara  took 
their  stations  there,  under  the  pretence  of  wishing 
to  pay  particular  attention  to  a  young  lady,  who 
was  esteemed  an  excellent  performer. 

'  Why,  how  comes  this,  my  love  ?'  said  the  fond 
father,  taking  her  hand  as  he  seated  himself  beside 
her.  f  Why  do  1  not  see  you  among  yonder  group  ?' 

Angeline  could  not  suppress  a  sigh — '  The 
marchioness  asked  me  to  play,'  she  replied,  half 
meeting,  half  shunning  his  eye,  '  but  1  was  not  in- 
clined/ 

'  Well,  but  that  is  no  reason  why  you  should  sit 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  205 

in  this  manner  by  yourself.  You  can't  think  how 
forsaken  you  looked  when  I  entered  the  room. 
Come,  come,  you  must  appear  more  cheerful. 
Am  I  not  right,  my  lord,'  appealing  to  the  marquis, 
who  accidentally  approached  at  the  moment,  *  in 
insisting  that  she  should  do  so  ?' 

The  marquis  assentingly  bowed  and  smiled,  but 
attempted  not  to  enter  into  conversation  with  her, 
as  Clanronel  had  expected,  from  the  pleasure  he 
had  hitherto  manifested  in  availing  himself  of  every 
opportunity  to  do  so. 

He  could  not  help  being  struck  by  his  passing 
en  in  this  manner ;  but  quickly  subduing  the  emo- 
tion it  occasioned,  he  led  Angeline  to  the  piano ; 
but  instead  of  hearing  her  importuned  to  take  the 
seat  that  was  just  then  vacated  at  it,  he  quickly 
beheld  her  left  standing  there  by  herself.  Again, 
was  he  surprised ;  but  again  speedily  checked  him- 
self from  trying  to  believe  this  also  was  not  a  pre- 
meditated circumstance.  Yet  he  could  not  entire- 
ly recover  himself;  a  kind  of  vague  uneasiness  was 
excited,  that  led  to  observations  tending  to  con- 
firm it ;  his  pride  took  the  alarm — he  was  jealous 
in  whatever  related  to  Angeline,  after  the  slight  she 
had  met  with  from  lord  Hexham,  the  indignity 
with  which  he  had  treated  her ;  he  conceived  the 
family  could  not  be  too  particular  in  their  atten- 
tions, and,  in  consequence,  now  perceived,  with 
equal  surprise  and  irritation,  an  appearance  of  ne- 
glect in  their  manner  towards  her.  Yes,  notwith- 
standing their  previous  resolve,  the  prejudice  they 
had  been  led  to  conceive  against  her  was  too  strong 
to  permit  them  to  act  in  the  manner  they  had  iu 
reality  wished  and  intended. 

The  result  of  Clanronel's  observations  was,  his 
hastening  his  departure :  he  was  now  able  to  ac- 


206  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

count  for  the  melancholy  that  had  appeared  in  the 
countenance  of  Angeline  on  his  joining  her ;  and 
the  idea  of  her  having  felt  the  altered  conduct  she 
experienced,  heightened  his  resentment  at  it. 

Deeply  musing  on  it,  with  a  degree  of  perplexi- 
ty, from  being  unable  in  any  way  to  surmise  to 
what  it  was  owing,  but  little  conversation  ensued 
between  him  and  Angeline  on  their  way  back  to 
Rooksdale;  and  shortly  after  their  return  there 
they  separated,  perhaps  almost  equally  unhappy 
at  the  moment ;  for  not  without  sensations  of  the 
most  acute  nature  could  Clanronel  contemplate  the 
possibility  of  a  coolness  occurring  between  him 
and  his  long  tried  friends  at  the  Abbey. 


CHAP.  XV. 


Could  t  but  see  toth'  end  of  woe 
There  were  some  comfort;  but  eternal  torment 
Is  ever  insupportable  to  thought.  OTWAY. 


cool  and  formal  farewell  which  Clanronel  took 
of  the  marquis  had  the  effect  of  convincing  him 
his  conduct  on  this  evening  was  not  such  as  his 
friendship  for  him  should  have  permitted  ;  in  con- 
sequence he  bitterly  reproached  himself  ;  and  at  an 
early  hour  the  ensuing  day,  proceeded  to  Rooks- 
dale,  to  try  whether  it  were  possible  to  make  him 
forget  it. 

Clanronel  received  him  with  a  slight  cloud  on 
his  brow  ;  but  the  restoration  of  the  marquis  to  his 
usual  manner  had  soon  the  effect  of  also  restoring 
him  to  his.  A  friendship  like  theirs,  indeed,  was 
not  easily  to  be  shaken  The  mind  of  real  steadi- 
ness and  feeling  will  not  readily  relinquish  the  long- 
tried  friend  of  its  adoption. 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  207 

Clanronel  now  began  to  think  he  was  mistaken 
in  all  he  had  imagined  Hie  preceding  night;  that 
his  jealousy  about  Angeline  rendered  him  too  tena- 
cious and  petulant ;  and  that  knowing,  as  he  did, 
the  dispositions  of  his  friends  at  the  Abbey,  it  wag 
astonishing  he  could  ever  have  yielded  to  the  sur- 
mise, he  did.  These  reflections  rendered  him  not 
only  as  displeased  with  himself  as  the  marquis  had 
previously  been,  but  induced  him  to  readily  accept 
the  invitation  given  to  him  and  Angeline  to  also 
pass  that  evening  at  the  Abbey 

Angeline  did  not  learn  this,  or  rather  his  accep- 
tance of  it,  without  extreme  pain,  so  repugnant  to 
her  feelings,  from  the  observations  of  the  preceding 
evening,  was  the  idea  of  going  there  again,  more 
particularly  as  she  was  uncertain  of  the  moment  at 
which  lady  Hosamond  might  arrive,  whom  she  net 
only,  wished,  but  determined,  if  possible,  to  avoid 
meeting,  until  after  she  had  seen  Miss  Rosctea  — 
Not  knowing,  however,  what  excuse  to  make  for 
not  accompanying  him,  she  consented,  but  in  a 
manner  that  allowed  him  to  perceive  her  extreme 
reluctance  to  do  so. 

Two  gentlemen  dined  with  him  this  day,  but 
who  proposed  making  but  a  short  stay,  she  was 
given  to  understand.  Soon  after  dinner  she  with- 
drew to  her  dressing-room,  and  taking  up  a  book, 
was  engaged  with  it,  when  her  maid  abruptly  enter- 
ed with  a  letter;  a  glance  at  the  superscription 
sufficed  to  let  her  see  it  came  from  IVliss  Koscrea ; 
and  accordingly,  all  agitation,  she  dismissed  her 
attendant,  and,  eagerly  opening  it,  read  as  follows; 

'MY    DEAR    MISS    CLANRONEL 

*  About  two  minutes  ago  I  reached  your 
neighbourhood ;  but  my  anxiety  to  acquaint  you 
with  my  arrival,  owing  to  the  purport  of  your  last 


208  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    OOLUMB. 

letter,  is  too  great  to  permit  me  to  delay  apprizing 
you  of  the  circumstance.  I  am  told  you  are  ex- 
pected here  this  evening,  which  i  regret,  as  this  is 
no  place  for  the  conference  we  require ;  and  had 
you  remained  at  home,  I  am  sure  I  should  have 
been  able  to  have  contrived  obtaining  an  interview 
with  you  ;  but  perhaps  you  may  be  able  to  invent 
some  excuse  for  not  coming.  My  maid  will  be  in 
waiting  for  an  answer  to  this ;  if  such  as  1  wish  for, 
rely  on  it  it  shall  not  be  my  fault,  if,  ere  the  day 
closes,  we  do  not  meet.  1  cannot  conclude  with- 
out adding,  that,  on  more  accounts  than  one,  I 
could  wi§h  you  not  to  come,  as  I  much  fear  your 
abrupt  appearance  before  lady  Rosamond,  who 
still  remains  ignorant  of  your  being  her  imaginary 
rival,  might  be  productive  of  something  very  un- 
pleasant ;  but,  of  course,  act  as  your  own  discre- 
tion and  inclination  suggest.  1  should  have  deem  • 
ed  myself  inexcusable,  not  to  have  given  you  this 
hint ;  but  whether  necessary  or  not  to  avail  your- 
self of  it,  you  must  best  know/ 

The  perusal  of  this  billet  did  not  by  any  means 
tend  to  lessen  the  agitation  with  which  Angelina 
had  opened  it.  She  could  not  reflect,  that  in  the 
course  of  a  few  hours  her  suspense  relative  to  Vil- 
liers  might  be  at  an  end,  or  rather,  how  it  might  be 
terminated  without  a  tremor  in  every  nerve,  nor  of 
the  consequences  that  might  have  resulted  from 
not  having  been  thus  early  apprized  of  the  arrival 
of  lady  Rosamond. 

But  how,  after  consenting  to  go — how,  after  be- 
ing actually  prepared  for  the  purpose — how  could 
she  refuse  accompanying  her  father  to  the  Abbey  r 
She  knew  of  no  other  method  of  excusing  herself, 
than  by  pleading  indisposition. 

Accordingly,  on  his  sending  to  let  her  know  he 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB,  209 

waited  for  her,  she  ordered  her  maid  to  inform  him, 
that  a  severe  headache  had  compelled  her  to  lie 
down,  and  put  it  entirely  out  of  her  power  to  at- 
tend him  to  the  Abbey  that  evening ;  but,  at  the 
same  time  to  add,  that  he  need  be  under  no  unea- 
siness, as  she  felt  confident  a  little  rest  would  re- 
store her,  and  should  therefore  feel  unhappy,  if,  on 
her  account,  he  thought  of  staying  at  home. 

But  the  fond  father  was  not  to  be  prevailed  on 
to  go  out,  till  he  had  previously  assured  himself 
there  was  nothing  to  fear ;  having  done  this,  he 
then  forced  himself  to  keep  his  engagement,  but 
only  from  an  apprehension,  that  an  apology  might 
be  imputed  to  a  lingering  feeling  of  resentment. 

Angeline  was  no  sooner  assured  of  his  being  gone, 
than  she  dispatched  the  expected  answer  to  Miss 
Roscrea,  and  shortly  after  repaired  to  a  parlour, 
communicating  with  a  private  door  to  which  she 
had  directed  her.  Of  the  wished  for  interview 
she  was  not  disappointed;  Miss  Roscrea  was  her* 
self  too  anxious  for  it,  to  permit  her  to  be  so.  Mak- 
ing excessive  fatigue  a  pretext  for  retiring  from  the 
drawing-room,  she  hastily  muffled  herself  up,  and, 
with  the  assistance  of  her  maid,  succeeded  in  quit- 
ting the  Abbey  unobserved,  and  reaching  the  apart- 
ment where  Angeline  waited  to  receive  her.  For 
a  minute  after  she  saw  her,  Angeline  was  scarcely 
able  to  bid  her  welcome,  so  violent  was  the  agita- 
tion excited  by  her  presence,  or  rather  the  idea  of 
the  information  she  might  receive  from  her ;  it 
seemed  to  her  as  if  the  very  crisis  of  her  fate  was 
at  hand,  and  she  could  not  feel  so,  without  a  sensa- 
tion of  dismay ;  but  ere  Miss  Roscrea  would  reply 
to  any  of  her  anxious  interrogations,  she  determined 
on  having  her  own  answered  :  it  was  only,  indeed, 
by  what  she  heard  she  could  be  guided  what  to 

VOL.  II.  T 


210         MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

say ;  for,  as  may  already  be  understood,  she  had 
not  the  remotest  idea  of  dealing  ingenuously  v,  ith 
Angeline.  Her  subtle  questions  soon  succeeded 
in  obtaining  from  her  all  the  information  she  requir- 
ed ;  wavering  whether  or  not  to  repose  unlimited 
confidence  in  her,  Angeline  was  gradually  betrayed 
into  the  latter. 

To  decide  which,  for*  the  first  few  minutes  after 
the  disclosure  of  her  marriage,  was  most  agitated, 
would  have  been  impossible ;  all,  for  some  moments 
after  hearing  it,  was  rage  and  despair  in  the  bosom 
of  Miss  lloscrea ;  the  recollection  then  of  the  se- 
paration she  had  already  effected,  and  the  final  one 
she  might  yet  be  able  to  accomplish,  had  the  effect, 
in  some  degree,  of  enabling  her  to  subdue  her  emo- 
tion. 

A  vague  plan  for  the  purpose  of  preventing  all 
chance,  or  even  possibility,  of  a  re  union  between 
them,  wjis  not  long  in  suggesting  itself  to  her.— 
Smoothing  her  brow  accordingly,  she  endeavoured 
to  persuade  her  that  the  emotion  she  had  just  be- 
trayed was  entirely  owing  to  the  shock  she  expe- 
rienced, at  learning  the  unhappy  predicament  in 
which  she  had  placed  herself. — l  But  we  must 
hope/  she  artfully  continued,  *  that  all  will  end 
well;  that  the  conduct  of  Villiers  has  been  owing 
to  some  mistake  or  misrepresentation,  not  any  de- 
liberate determination ;  and  consequently,  that  the 
interference  of  a  friend  will  be  a  means  of  effecting 
all  that  can  be  desired.  On  my  exertions  for  the 
purpose  rely ;  be  assured  nothing  shall  be  wanting 
on  my  part  to  restore  you  to  happiness/ 

1  You  know  then  where  he  is  ?'  exclaimed  Ange- 
line, eagerly  grasping  her  arm. 

1  Why  not  exactly,'  replied  Miss  Roscrea,  bu. 
in  pursuance  of  her  plan;  '  I  have 'a  friend  in  the 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  211 

neighbourhood,  who  is  perfectly  acquainted  with 
him,  and  to  her  1  shall  immediately  apply  for  the 
requisite  information/ 

'  Good  God/  emphatically  said  Angeline,  clasp- 
ing her  hands,  <  how  grateful  am  I  to  you  !  In  the 
course  of  the  ensuing  day  then,  perhaps,  I  may 
have  the  happiness  of  obtaining  what  I  have  so 
many  reasons  for  being  solicitous  for.' 

'  Assuredly :  compose  yourself  therefore,  lest 
the  appearance  of  any  uncommon  emotion  should 
lead  to  suspicion  ;  for  till  you  have  ascertained  to 
what  the  conduct  of  Villiers  was  owing,  or  rather 
how  he  ultimately  decides  to  act,  it  is  advisable,  in 
my  opinion,  that  you  should  carefully  conceal  what 
has  occurred,  lest  the  violent  measures  your  friends 
would  naturally  be  led  to  have  recourse  to,  if  ac- 
quainted with  it,  should  have  an  injurious  effect.' 

Angeline,  repeating  her  ardent  acknowledgments 
for  the  interest  she  evinced  for  her,  assured  her 
she  only  advised  what  she  had  previously  resolved 
on ;  but  added,  though  she  couUl  not  immediately 
let  her  knotv  where  Villiers  then  was,  she  could  at 
least  let  her  know  whether  she  thought  him  the 
amiable  character  he  appeared,  and  also,  she  hoped, 
gome  particulars  of  his  family. 

Miss  Roscrea  replied,  she  had  but  little  doubt, 
from  the  estimation  in  which  she  knew  him  held  by 
Roscrea,  of  his  being  what  he  appeared  ;  but  with 
regard  to  his  connexions,  she  knew  nothing — 
*  However,  you  will  not  long,  1  dare  say,  remain  in 
ignorance  on  that  head/  she  added ;  *  before  this 
hour  to-morrow,  I  should  not  be  surprised  if  your 
anxiety  on  the  subject  was  fully  gratified — if,  ere 
then,  you  found  yourself  in  his  arms  ;  for  I  have  a 
shrewd  suspicion,  though  why  or  wherefore  I  shall 
not  now  explain,  that  he  is  not  at  an  immense 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

distance  ;  and  therefore,  from  the  letter  I  propose 
addressing  to  him,  through  the  medium  of  my 
friend,  deem  an  immediate  meeting  not  improbable/ 

'  Oh,  Heavens !  what  happiness  do  you  commu- 
nicate to  my  heart,  by  the  hope  you  inspire  !  how 
has  my  conference  with  you  relieved  it !  how  light- 
ened the  anguish  that  has  long  oppressed  it,  long 
corroded  my  peace  !'  said  the  credulous  Angeline. 
'  Never  shall  1  be  able  to  evince,  as  I  wish,  what  I 
feel  for  your  kindness — the  grateful  sense  1  enter- 
tain of  your  friendship.  Oh,  what  will  be  my  hap- 
piiiess  to  be  again  at  liberty  to  act  with  the  since- 
ri-y  natural  to  me — to  be  divested  of  Ihe  appre- 
hension that  has  so  tortured  me,  of  being  a  source 
of  misery  to  my  father  !' 

In  a  word,  she  was  completely  deceived  by  her 
self-interested  confident,  lulled  into  that  quiescent 
state  that  lays  us  entirely  open  to  the  designs  of 
the  flagitious.  Not  a  doubt  of  the  integrity  of 
Miss  Uo3crea,  the  least  suspicion  of  her  truth,  the 
remotest  idea  of  her  practising  any  deception,  once 
occurred,  and,  in  consequence,  all  that  remained 
for  her  to  do,  to  get  her  completely  entangled  in 
her  toils,  was  to  spread  the  snare  she  was  now 
weaving  for  her. 

But  what  her  object  could  be,  hearing  what  she 
had,  to  prosecute  any  further  designs  against  her, 
may  be  demanded.  The  fact  was,  she  was  not 
still  without  a  hope  of  being  able  to  "accomplish 
her  own  views,  with  regard  to  lord  Hexham,  could 
she  prevent  their  reunion  ;  and,  at  all  events,  felt, 
that  to  prevent  Angeline's  restoration  to  hajipiness, 
would  be  a  gratification  of  the  most  exquisite  de- 
scription to  her. 

The  particulars  §he  drew  from  Angeline  were 
the  means  of  suggesting  to  her  the  plan  she  adopt- 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  213 

0 

ed  for  this  purpose.   The  concealment  she  avowed 
her  observing,  relative  to  her  intimacy  with  lady 
Rosamond,  and  ignorance  of  the  connexion  she  had 
really  formed,  allowed  her  to  see  she  might  safely 
venture  to  contrive  her  removal  from  the  neigh- 
bourhood ;  and  once  conveyed  from  it,  a  rumour 
of  her  death  might  easily  be  spread,  which,  from 
the  light  in  which  circumstances  must  make  her 
appear,  would,  she  made  no  doubt,  be  considered 
too  welcome  a  one,  by  her  friends,  to  permit  them 
to  inquire  minutely  into  its  truth.    Her  impatience 
to  digest  and  finally  arrange  her  meditated  plan, 
was  too  great  to  allow  her  to  think  of  prolonging 
the  interview ;  a  particular  hour  and  place  were 
appointed  for  another  the  succeeding  day,  for  the 
purpose,  she  pretended,  of  communicating  the  re- 
sult of  her  letter  to  her  friend.  She  then  departed, 
but  not  without  again  admonishing  Angeline  of  the 
prudence  of  keeping  concealed  all  that  she  had  re- 
vealed to  her,  till  after  their  next  meeting  at  least. 
Scarcely  was  she  gone,  ere  Angeline  heard  some 
one  tapping  at  the  parlour  door,  which,  lest  of  a 
surprise,  she  had  bolted.     She  hastened  to  open  it, 
and  admitted  her  father.  Had  a  spectre  presented 
itself  to  her  view,  she  could  scarcely  have  evinced 
greater  emotion  than  she  did  at  his  unexpected  ap- 
pearance; so  strange,  she  was  aware,  must  the 
circumstance  of  her  having  fastened  herself  in  ap- 
pear to  him.     Too  much  confused  to  be  able  im- 
mediately to  recollect  herself,  she  stood  for  a  minute 
trembling  and  irresolute,  with  the  door  in  her  hand. 
Her  emotion  seemed  contagious;  almost  drawing 
back — *  I  seem  to  have  alarmed  you,'  said  her  fa- 
ther, with  an  air  of  agitation,  and  a  look  of  wild 
inquiry. 

*  Yes — a — a  little — that  is,  surprised  me,  I 

T2 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

mean/  she  replied.  '  I  did  not  expect  you  from 
the  Abbey  quite  so  soon/ 

'  The  idea  of  your  indisposition  would  not  allow 
me  to  continue  longer  absent.  Your  being  here, 
however,  instead  of  in  your  chamber,  as  I  almost 
expected,  gives  me  reason  to  think  1  need  not  have 
been  so  uneasy.  What  study,  pray,  may  I  ask/ 
with  a  forced  smile,  and  glancing  round  the  room 
as  he  spoke,  t  were  you  engaged  in,  that  you  were 
so  unwilling  to  be  abruptly  intruded  on  f' 

'  No — no — particular  one/  again  faltered  out 
Angeline,  unable  to  utter  a  falsehood,  and  besides, 
aware  that,  in  the  present  instance,  to  have  done  so 
could  answer  no  other  end,  than  that  of  exposing 
her  to  additional  confusion,  there  being  nothing  in 
the  apartment  to  corroborate,  a  contrary  assertion, 
neither  books,  materials  for  writing,  nor  a  musical 
instrument — '  but  I  thought' what,  she  was  un- 
able to  say,  so  completely  was  she  overwhelmed 
by  confusion,  on  perceiving  her  father  had  disco- 
vered the  door  by  which  she  had  admitted  Miss 
"Roscrea,  and  which  a  small  kind  of  hall  divided 
from  the  parlour,  lying  open.  Never  had  she  felt 
herself  in  so  cruel  a  dilemma,  never  so  oppressed  by 
the  consciousness  of  appearing  in  a  suspicious 
light ;  his  look,  his  manner,  on  this  discovery,  his 
total  silence  relative  to  it,  all  left  her  no  room  to 
doubt  this  being  the  case  :  agonized  by  the  idea, 
she  was  almost  on  the  point  of  throwing  herself  at 
his  feet,  and  fully  opening  her  tortured  heart  to  his 
view,  when,  with  evidently  forced  calmness,  he  told 
her  he  would  no  longer  prevent  her  retiring,  as  he 
clearly  saw  he  had  agitated  her  by  his  unexpected 
appearance,  and  wished  besides  to  be  left  alone. 
But  being  allowed  to  withdraw  afforded  her  but 
little  relief;  doubt,  it  was  too  evident,  had  taken 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  215 

possession  of  her  father's  mind,  arid  the  conviction 
agitated  her  beyond  expression  ;  such  indeed  was 
the  misery  it  occasioned,  that  but  for  the  insidious 
advice  of  Miss  Roscrea,  she  would  scarcely  have 
been  able  to  have  prevented  herself  from  coming 
to  an  immediate  explanation  with  him.  She  left 
him,  indeed,  as  she  had  surmised,  in  a  state  of 
alarm  and  dismay;  he  could  no  longer  deceive 
himself,  no  longer  avoid  seeing  she  had  some  con- 
cealment from  him — a  belief  he  had  hitherto 
steadily  resisted,  notwithstanding  the  sufficient 
grounds  he  had  previously  for  yielding  to  it,  from 
the  conviction  of  its  being  one  that  could  not  fail 
of  destroying  his  newly-restored  happiness ;  but 
the  incidents  of  this  evening  would  no  longer  per- 
mit him  to  refuse  admission  to  it.  The  agitation  it 
occasioned  was  heightened  by  his  indecision  how  to 
act ;  whether,  at  once,  to  tax  her  with  disingenuity, 
or  endeavour  to  ascertain  what  he  wished  by  be- 
coming a  silent  observer  on  her  actions  :  at  length 
he  resolved  on  the  latter,  in  hopes  of  her  being  led 
by  the  ingenuousness  he  could  not  divest  himself 
of  the  fond  idea  of  being  inherent  in  her  nature,  to, 
at  length,  make  the  required  confession  of  her  own 
accord  ;  but,  at  all  events,  whether  voluntarily  or 
not,  there  was  an  end  of  all  those  high  raised  hopes 
of  happiness  he  had  recently  indulged. 

But  not  entirely  to  anxiety  about  her  was  his 
shortened  visit  at  the  Abbey  owing.  The  matter 
of  indifference  which,  to  his  extreme  surprise,  her 
not  accompanying  him  there  appeared  to  be,  by 
reviving  all  the  angry  emotions  of  the  preceding 
evening,  induced  him  to  hasten  his  exit.  He  had 
looked  forward  to  a  thousand  affectionate  congratu- 
lations from  lady  Rosamond,  on  the  recent  dis- 
covery, instead  of  which  she  had  never  opened 


216  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

her  lips  on  the  subject.  Her  silence  on  one  so 
interesting  to  him,  considering  her  having  always 
appeared  to  participate  in  the  regard  her  family 
honoured  him  with,  seemed  most  strange,  most 
extraordinary  to  him — a  circumstance  he  could  not 
avoid  dwelling  on;  and  as  he  sat  musing  on  it,  af- 
ter the  retiring  of  Angeline,  it  suddenly  suggested 
to  him  the  possibility  of  something  to  her  preju- 
dice having  been  heard  at  the  Abbey  :  he  started 
at  the  surmise,  as  if  a  dagger  had  been  planted  in 
his  breast  at  the  moment ;  but  though,  from  the 
exquisite  torture  it  inflicted,  he  strove  to  banish  it, 
he  could  not  succeed ;  the  more  he  reflected  on 
the  character  of  the  marquis  and  marchioness,  the 
more  he  was  convinced  of  the  little  probability 
there  was  of  their  being  ever  swayed  by  caprice, 
and,  of  consequence,  confirmed  in  it. 

Again  he  became  irresolute  how  to  act ;  but  at 
length  decided  on  avoiding  all  explanation  on  the 
subject  with  the  marquis,  till  he  had  endeavoured 
to  ascertain  what  it  was  that  could  have  been  as- 
serted to  the  injury  of  Angeline. 

To  that  natural  indignation  which  characters  of 
real  honour  and  delicacy  involuntarily  feel  at  the 
disclosure  of  any  baseness,  was  again  owing  the 
conduct  at  the  Abbey,  that  had  excited  this  tor- 
turing persuasion  in  the  mind  of  Clanronel. 

Lady  Rosamond  could  not  sufficiently  command 
herself  to  avoid  being  explicit  with  her  family ;  she 
could  not  find  herself  with  those  whose  affection 
would  lead  them  to  redress  her  imagined  wrongs, 
without  revealing  them,  so  great  is  the  relief  im- 
parted to  the  surcharged  heart,  by  opening  itself  to 
those  of  whose  sympathy  it  is  certain  ;  and,  in  con- 
sequence, Angeline  was  regarded  with  heightened 
indignation. 


MONASTERY  OP  ST.  COLUMB.  217 

In  proportion  as  she  was  lowered  by  the  repre- 
sentations of  lady  Rosamond  in  their  estimation, 
Miss  Roscrea  was  elevated  in  it :  there  seemed 
something  so  truly  generous,  so  truly  noble,  in  her 
espousing  the  cause  of  the  injured,  contrary  to 
the  supposed  impulse  of  natural  affection,  that 
terms  were  found  inadequate  to  express  what  was 
thought  of  her  conduct  on  the  occasion.  Such 
indeed  were  the  sentiments  she  was  permitted  to 
see  she  had  inspired,  that  she  could  scarcely  bring 
herself  to  doubt,  from  the  influence  she  conceived 
they  must  have  upon  him,  that  if  lord  Hexham 
was  led  to  believe  himself  again  free,  her  wishes 
respecting  him  might  at  length  be  crowned  with 
success.  But  in  condemning  Roscrea,  the  marchi- 
oness did  not  altogether  acquit  her  daughter ;  her 
conduct  in  quitting  her  residence,  without  con- 
sulting him,  she  conceived  highly  censurable. 
The  pain  their  difference  occasioned  was  augment- 
ed by  the  impossibility  of  at  present  taking  any  ef- 
fectual step  for  adjusting  it,  owing  to  Angeline. 
On  her  account,  too,  lord  Hexham  could  not  be 
immediately  recalled  to  the  Abbey,  a  reflection 
that  did  not  tend  to  weaken  the  resentment  which 
had  been  excited  against  her. 

Before  the  ensuing  day,  Miss  Roscrea  had  final- 
ly arranged  her  plans  respecting  her  ;  for  the  faci- 
lity with  which  she  was  enabled  to  do  so,  she  was, 
in  some  measure,  indebted  to  her  woman,  her 
confident  on  many  previous  important  occasions 
as  well  as  this. 

At  the  appointed  hour  she  hastened  to  the  place 
of  meeting  with  Angeline.  Her  looks,  her  man- 
ner, all  intended  to  deceive,  instantly  inspired 
hope — *  I  see/  said  Angeline,  involuntarily  grasp- 
ing her  arm  to  support  her  frame,  trembling  with 


218  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLVMB. 

joyful  emotion,  '  that  you  have  pleasant  tidings  to 
impart ;  your  countenance  tells  me  so.' 

'  It  does  not  flatter/  returned  Miss  Roscrea ; 
(  I  have  indeed  information  to  communicate,  that 
must  rejoice  you.  Villiers,  as  I  surmised,  is  not 
far  distant,  and  has,  in  consequence  of  my  letter, 
appointed  an  interview  with  you  this  evening,  at  a 
place  a  few  miles  off.  Don't  look  so  perplexed  ; 
my  woman  shall  accompany  you  in  a  chaise  that  I 
will  take  care  to  have  provided  for  you.  Doubt- 
less, after  the  manner  in  which  1  wrote  to  him, 
Villiers  would  have  hastened  hither  at  once  him- 
self, instead  of  requiring  you  to  take  the  trouble 
of  going  to  any  distance  to  meet  him,  but  for  the 
circumstances  he  is  at  present  under;  the  fact 
is,  he  has  recently  been  engaged  in  an  affair  of 
honour,  that  renders  caution  necessary,  till  the 
fate  of  his  antagonist  is  one  way  or  other  decided/ 

Angeline  clasped  her  hands  in  agony — '  Good 
God!  she  exclaimed,  'how  could  you  say  you 
had  intelligence  to  communicate  that  would  rejoice 
me?' 

'  Because  I  really  thought  so.  As  your  fame, 
and  the  peace  of  your  father,  must  be  your  first 
considerations,  I  could  not  possibly  avoid  imagin- 
ing that  the  prospect  of  being  extricated  from  a 
situation  calculated  to  injure  both,  would  not  afford 
you  sincere  pleasure.  Human  happiness  is  sel- 
dom without  alloy  ;  and  though  1  do  not  pretend 
to  much  philosophy,  yet  this  I  certainly  think, 
that  unrepiningly  we  should  take  the  evil  with  the 
good  :  Villiers  may  soon  be  relieved  from  the  un- 
pleasant predicament  in  which  he  at  present  stands ; 
at  all  events,  an  explanation  with  him  must,  I 
should  conceive,  be  a  means  of  restoring  you  to 
comparative  tranquillity.  The  result  of  my  letter 


MONASTERY    OF   ST.    COLUMB. 

proves,  that  he  is  not  less  anxious  for  this  tjian 
you  are  :  make  up  your  mhxl  therefore  to  meet 
him  this  evening,  as  he  has  desired,  and,  rely  on 
it,  you  will  have  reason  to  rejoice  at  the  circum- 
stance/ 

c  I  at  once  did  that/  returned  Angeline ;  *  duty 
and  inclination  alike  impel  me  to  the  measure;  and 
my  obligations  to  you  are  heightened  by  your 
promised  aid  on  the  occasion/  Almost  involunta- 
rily then  she  expressed  a  wish  to  know  who  the 
person  was  whose  interference  relative  to  Villie'rs 
Miss  Roscrea  had  obtained  ? 

Miss  Roscrea  evaded  a  direct  reply  to  this  ques- 
tion, by  pretending  she  had  a  particular  reason  for 
not  informing  her  at  present. — '  Besides,  it  can  be 
of  no  consequence  to  you  to  know/  she  added; 
*  and  at  ^ill  events,  you  should  at  present  think  of 
nothing  but  the  approaching  interview,  in  order 
that  you  may  be  sufficiently  collected  to  obtain 
the  explanation  so  essential  to  your  peace.  About 
eight  my  woman  shall  be  in  waiting  for  you  at  a 
little  distance  from  the  entrance  to  the  avenue; 
and  as  you  will  not  have  above  a  few  miles  to  go, 
you  will  be  back,  I  dare  say,  before  your  father 
rise*  from  table.' 

Every  thing  being  settled,  she  would  have  de- 
parted, but,  still  anxious  and  agitated,  Angeline 
a  few  minutes  longer  detained  her,  and  now  pro- 
ceeded to  mention  the  embarrassing  incident  of  the 
preceding  evening,  and  the  additional  unhappiness 
she  experienced,  from  the  too  evident  suspicion  it 
had  inspired  her  father  with. 

Miss  Roscrea  was  rejoiced  at  what  she  heard; 
since  distrust  once  introduced,  there  was  little  dif- 
ficulty, she  was  aware,  in  making  rue  worst  believ- 
ed. Not  to  chance,  however,  had  she  determined 


'220  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

leaving  the  irreparable  injury  of  Angeline  with 
her  father  ;  it  was  her  intention  to  apprize  him  of 
the  name  she  had  borne  at  the  castle,  a  circum- 
stance that,  from  what  she  understood  he  ad 
heard  from  the  marquis,  could  not  fail,  she  con- 
ceived, of  making  him  consider  her  all  she  desired 
her  fo  be  imagined,  and  her  disappearance  from 
Rooksdale  a  voluntary  act. 

How  finally  to  dispose  of  her,  she  had  not  yet 
decided;  for  the  present,  it  was  her  intention  to 
have  her  conveyed  to  Ireland,  where,  through 
means  of  her  woman,  she  knew  she  could  be  safely 
secreted  for  some  time.  In  short,  her  arrange- 
ments were  such,  as  to  permit  her  to  entertain  no 
doubt  of  the  final  accomplishment  of  her  plans — 
an  accomplishment  to  which  she  looked  forward 
without  the  slightest  remorse  for  the  misery  she 
was  perfectly  aware  it  must  occasion. 

A  brother  of  her  woman's  was  the  owner  of  a 
vessel  at  Whitehaven ;  and  of  her  knowledge  of 
this  circumstance,  or  rather  his  being  on  the  point 
of  sailing  thence  for  Dublin  she  resolved  to  avail 
herself,  to  have  Angeline  conveyed  to  Dublin  in 
his  vessel. 


MONASTERY    OF    ST,    COJLUMfc. 


CHAP.  XVL 

GrievM  1, 1  had  but  one  ? 

Chid  I  for  that  at  frugal  nature's  frame  ^ 
Oh  one  too  much  by  thee  !     Why  had  I  one  : 
Why  ever  wast  thou  lovely  in  ray  eyes  ? 
Why  had  I  not,  with  charitable  hand, 
Took  up  a  beggar's  issue  at  my  gates, 
Who  smirched  thus,  and  mir'd  with  infamy, 
I  might  have  said,  no  part  of  it  is  mine  / 

This  shame  derives  itself  from  unknown  loins. 

»*#*** 

But  mine,  and  mine  I  lov'd,  am!  mine  I  prais'd, 
And  mine  that  1  was  proud  on  ;  mine  so  much, 
That  I  myself  was  to  myself  not  mine, 
Valuing  of  her  ;  why,  she,  oh  !  she  is  fallen 
into  a  pit  of  ink!  that  the  wide  sea 
Hath  drops  too  few  to  wash  her  clean  again  ; 
And  salt  too  ittle,  which  may  season  give 
To  her  foul  tainted  flesh  ! 

SHAKSPEARH> 

AT  the  appointed  hour  Angeline  stole  through  the 
avenue,  but  in  a  state  of  trepidation  that  gave  her 
scarce  power  to  reach  the  chaise,  which  as  expect- 
ed, she  found  waitingat  a  little  distance  from  it  :  but 
though  it  proceeded  with  rapidity,  it  did  not  stop 
quite  so  soon  as  she  expected.  At  length  she 
found  herself  at  the  place  where  she  had  been  led 
to  believe  she  should  find  Villiers  waiting  to  receive 
her,  and  for  a  moment  her  agitation  at  the  idea  of 
being  on  the  point  of  seeing  him,  completely  over- 
came her. 

Her  tremour  was  so  great,  as  to  render  her  un- 
able to  alight  without  assistance,  and  for  an  instant 
after  she  entered  the  house,  which  was  a  little  ob- 
scu  e  inn  by  the  road's  side,  she  felt  scarcely  able 
to  breath.  A  little  recovered,  she  looked  towards 

VOL.   II.  U 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

the  door,  with  something  like  a  sensation  of  mingled 
dread  and  anxiety,  for  the  entrance  of  Villiers  ;  but 
he  appeared  not.  She  was  not  long,  however,  kept 
in  a  state  of  suspense  ;  the  woman  who  had  usher- 
ed her  into  the  apartment  quickly  returned,  and 
presenting  her  with  a  letter,  again  withdrew  ;  with 
a  chilling  presentiment  of  disappointment,  Ange- 
line  tremblingly  broke  the  seal,  and  read  as  fol- 
lows : — 

'After  giving  you  the  trouble  of  coming 
from  home,  my  regret  at  being  unable  to  meet  you 
is  indiscribable,  more  especially  as  1  am  aware  of 
the  alarm  you  will  feel  at  the  circumstance,  owing 
to  the  motive  to  which  you  will  naturally  impute  it, 
from  the  communication  you  have  doubtless  receiv- 
ed from  Miss  Roscrea.  A  circumstance  has  in- 
deed occurred  to  convince  me,  that,  consistent  with 
safety,  I  can  neither  venture  to  the  place  appoint- 
ed for  our  interview,  nor  yet  delay  longer  in  this 
kingdom,  in  consequence  of  which  I  am  on  the 
point  of  proceeding  to  Whitehaven,  for  the  purpose 
of  embarking  thence  to  Ireland.  Could  you  be  in- 
duced to  follow  my  receding  steps,  how  great  would 
my  transport  and  gratitude  be,  at  such  a  proof  of 
your  affection  and  forgiveness!  That,  after  what 
has  occurred,  I  have  no  right  whatever  to  demand 
such  a  one,  1  am  perfectly  aware ;  but  perhaps  you 
will  not  deem  me  too  presumptuous  for  doing  so, 
when  1  solemnly  avow  the  cruel  conduct  i  can 
never  pardon  myself  for,  however  the  gentle- 
ness of  your  nature  may  lead  you  to  do  so,  was 
alone  occasioned  by  misrepresentations.  That  I 
should  have  closely  questioned  ere  1  allowed  my- 
self to  condemn,  1  acknowledge;  but  who  is  there 
tha^,  at  some  period  or  other,  is  no!  liable  to  err  f 
and,  alas  !  ardent  passions  are  but  too  apt  to  lead 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

iss  astray  :  if  suffering  be  considered  an  atonement 
for  error,  mine  i  may  surely  flatter  myself  with 
being  in  some  degree  extenuated ;  for  with  truth  I 
can  affirm,  that  for  every  pang  I  occasioned  you,  I 
inflicted  a  correspondent  one  on  myself.  Never, 
never,  till  I  have  a  personal  opportunity  of  implor- 
ing your  forgiveness  for  these,  shall  1  know  ought 
of  tranquillity.  Oh,  could  you  be  prevailed  on  to 
quickly  grajt  me  this,  how  great,  I  repeat,  would 
be  my  gratitude  !  That  in  urging  you  to  do  so,  I 
must  appear  inconsistent,  as  well  as  unreasonable,  I 
am  fully  sensible ;  inconsistent,  after  regretting  your 
having  the  slight  trouble  of  coming  a  trifling  dis- 
tance, to  immediately  require  you  to  incur  the  fa- 
tigue of  a  long  journey ;  but  with  feelings  at  vari- 
ance, how  can  we  be  otherwise  ?  Perhaps  it  may 
be  a  means  of  inducing  you  to  attend  to  my  wishes, 
to  know,  that  ere  the  receipt  of  this,  your  father  will 
be  fully  apprized  of  the  connexion  between  us ;  a 
hope  that  you  might  be  prevailed  on  to  act  as  I 
implore,  induced  me  to  commission  Mis»Roscrea 
to  acquaint  him  with  the  circumstance,  in  order  that 
your  departure  nwht  be  properly  accounted  for ; 
and  sure  1  am,  from  what  1  have  heard  respecting 
him,  he  will  not  be  displeased  at  your  hearkening 
to  my  request,  or,  as  might  be  considered,  obeying 
the  dictates  of  your  duty.  Disappoint  not,  there- 
fore, oh,  my  love,  I  implore  you,  my  high-raised 
expectations — yes,  I  repeat,  the  expectations  I  have 
permitted  myself  to  yield  to,  from  my  conviction 
of  the  sincerity  of  your  regard,  of  an  almost  imme- 
diate meeting.  Under  the  ecstatic  hope  of  your 
joining  me  there,  I  shall  linger  a  day  at  Whitehaven. 
Adieu  !  I  am  impatient  to  be  gone,  from  the  idea 
that  the  sooner  I  depart,  the  sooner  I  may  see  you.' 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

The  perusal  of  this  letter  had  an  effect  of  the 
most  agitating  nature  on  the  feelings  of  Angelirie, 
BO  great   was  the    struggle,   so  violent  the   COIK 
ilict   it  excited  in  her  mind,  between  inclination 
and  fear.     Propelled  by  the  powerful  impulse  of 
the  former  to   follow   the  steps   of  Villiers,  yet 
she    shrunk  from  the  thought,    lest   of  offending 
her  father;  but  at  length  as  the  wily  fabricator 
of  the  letter  had  conceived  would  be  the  case, 
it  triumphed.     To  the  idea  of  the  disappointment 
her  refusing  to  accede  to  the  wishes  of  Villiers — - 
Viiliers  now  more  interesting  than  ever  to  her  im- 
agination, from  the  persuasion  of  his  contrition  and 
distress,  his  needing  the  consolations  of  tenderness 
and  affection,  every  other  consideration  yielded, 
more  especially  as  she  could  not  bring  herself  to 
believe  her  father  would  condemn  her  on  cool  re- 
iiection.     Had  she  indeed  been  led  to  think  that  it 
was  intended  he  should  remain  in  ignorance  of  the 
tie  that  called  her  from  him,  nothing  then,  indeed, 
could  pc*  ibly  have  succeeded  in  inducing  her  to 
depart,  nothing  to-forfeit  for  a  moment  her  claim  to 
his  esteem,  nothing  for  an  instant  to  give  that  inter- 
ruption to  his  happiness  which  she  was  perfectly 
a*ware  a  belief  of  her  unworthiness  must  occasion  ; 
but  apprized  as   he  would  immediately  be  of  the 
motive  of  her  conduct,  or  rather,  prepared  in  a  de- 
gree for  the  announcement  of  her  departure,  by  the 
previous  communication  of  Miss  Roscrea,  she  could 
not  allow  herself  to  think  it  would  either  be  a  seri- 
ous shock,  or  cause  of  resentment  to  him;  and  ac- 
cordingly, with  all  the  eagerness  of  impatience,  re- 
entered  the  chaise,  unhesitatingly  accepting  the  art- 
ful offer  of  her  companion  to  attend  her  the  remain- 
der of  the  way,  and  with  a  determination  of  avail- 
ing herself  of  the  first  opportunity  to  address  a  let- 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

tertohim,  a  letter  which,  from  the  now-expected 
explicitness  of  Villiers,  she  trusted  she  should  be 
enabled  to  render  particularly  satisfactory  to  him. 
She  proceeded  without  stopping ;  and  on  reaching 
Whitehaven,  directly  drove  to  the  obscure  inn  to 
which  in  the  postscript  of  the  fabricated  letter  shehad 
been  directed :  but  with  spirits  now  entirely  exhaust- 
ed by  fatigue  and  agitation,  she  was  but  ill  gratified 
to  bear  the  disappointment  that  here  again  awaited 
her ;  again,  instead  of  beholding  Villiers,  she  was  pre- 
sented with  a  letter,  stating  the  necessity  he  found 
himself  under,  contrary  to  his  first  intention,  of 
immediately  embarking,  and  conjuring  her  in  the 
most  earnest  terms  not  to  hesitate  following.  This, 
after  proceeding  so  far,  she  could  not  allow  herself 
to  do  ;  but  with  a  sinking  heart,  from  the  disappoint- 
ments she  had  already  experienced,  she  made  up 
her  mind  to  the  measure.  Besides,  she  was  alarm- 
ed by  the  idea  of  the  close  pursuit  his  abrupt  de- 
parture announced,  or  rather  the  dangerous  state  it 
implied  his  antagonist  being  in  :  some  tears  fell 
from  her  at  the  clouded  prospect  she  was  again  in 
consequence  compelled  to  contemplate  ;  her 
thoughts  involuntary  reverted  to  her  father,  and 
with  a  pang  of  the  most  acute  nature,  she  reflected 
on  what,  after  all,  he  might  be  yet  destined  to  en- 
dure on  her  account. — But  this  was  not  a  moment 
to  give  herself  up  to  the  supine  indulgence  of  mel- 
ancholy— immediately  acquainting  her  companion 
with  the  purport  of  the  letter,  she  entreated  her 
exertions  to  procure  her  a  passage  to  the  other 
side. 

This  the  artful  Esther  readily  promised ;  inform- 
ing her  she  was  not  without  hopes  of  being  readily 
enabled  to  obtain  her  what  she  required,  owing  to 
her  having  a  relation  in  business  there,  to  whom  she 


MONASTERY  OP  ST. 

should  immediately  proceed,  for  the  purpose  ol 
procuring  his  assistance. 

Accordingly  she  left  her ;  and  having  ascertain- 
ed her  brother's  being  ready  to  sail,  and  arranged 
every  matter  with  him,  returned  in  the  course  of 
an  hour,  with  the  welcome  information  of  having 
succeeded — '  But  I  am  sorry  to  acquaint  you> 
madam/  she  answered, '  that  no  time  will  be  given 
you  for  repose,  after  the  fatigue  of  your  journey, 
for  the  vessel  is  about  getting  under  weigh ;  and 
besides  that,  it  is  nothing  better  than  a  collier/ 

'  Oh,  no  matter/  returned  Angeline ;  '  as  for 
rest,  I  am  not  in  a  state  of  mind  that  would  have 
permitted  me  to  enjoy  any ;  and  for  the  vessel,  it 
signifies  not  what  it  is,  so  that  it  is  equal  to  bear  me 
in  safety  over  the  waves,' 

A  carriage  was  immediately  sent  for ;  and  after 
stopping  for  a  few  minutes  in  their  way  to  it,  to 
purchase  a  few  necessaries  that  were  indispensable, 
they  proceeded,  without  further  delay,  to  the  place 
ef  embarkation,  and  directly  went  on  board.  But 
notwithstanding  what  had  been  said,  Angelina  was 
not  sufficiently  prepared  for  what  she  now  saw,  to 
fee  able  to  avoid  experiencing  a  sensation  of  disgust 
and  dismay  at  it.  Hastening  TO  the  wretched  ca- 
bin, she  threw  herself  on  the  still  more  wretched 
pallet,  with  a  hope  of  soon  being  lost  to  external 
objects  4  But  thought,  busy  thought,  rendered  in- 
effectual every  effort  for  repose;  her  brain  wa3 
heated,  her  mind  tortured  with  apprehension  and 
anxiety;  she  trembled  to  think  what  her  situation 
would  be,  should  she  be  again  disappointed  of  meet- 
ing Villiers,  and  still  more  at  what  her  father  would 
suffer,  should  she  be  destined,  through  the  connex- 
ion she  had  formed,  to  become  a  wanderer  in  a 
foreign  land. 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  227 

But  these  fears  were  soon  lost  in  fears  for  her 
personal  safety.  The  vessel  had  not  been  many 
hours  under  weigh,  when  a  storm  arose,  that,  from 
its  violence,  filled  even  the  uncouth  crew  with  dis- 
may ;  but  great  as  was  her  terror,  Angeline  never 
for  an  instant  lost  her  self-recollection  :  not  so,  how- 
ever, her  companion ;  conscious  guilt  augmented 
her  alarm  to  a  degree  that  soon  rendered  her  unable 
to  maintain  any  control  over  herself — the  inevita- 
ble fate  that  seemed  approaching,  was  rendered  stilJ 
more  dreadful  to  her  imagination  by  the  offences  of 
which  she  had  to  accuse  herself — the  terrible  con- 
sciousness of  having  been  prevailed  on,  from  inter- 
ested motives,  to  aid  in  ensnaring  innocence.  In 
an  agony  of  remorse  and  contrition,  she  was  at 
length  impelled  to  betray  herself — impelled  to  open 
to  the  view  of  the  dismayed  Angeline  her  tortured 
soul — impelled  to  reveal  the  complicated  strata- 
gems practised  on  her,  by  a  hope  of  the  confession 
being  considered  some  extenuation  of  her  guilt  hi 
the  sight  of  Heaven — obtaining  her  some  remis- 
sion of  her  sins  at  that  awful  tribunal  to  which  sh£ 
believed  herself  on  the  point  of  being  summoned. 

What  Angeline  felt  at  her  communication,  may 
easier  be  conceived  than  described ;  no  language 
could  do  justice  to  the  astonishment  excited  by  the 
disclosure  of  such  treachery  ;  in  the  feelings  it  in- 
spired, every  other  feeling  was  for  a  time  lost — she 
became  insensible  for  a  few  minutes  of  the  terrific 
pealing  of  the  thunder,  the  raging  of  the  wind 
shivering  the  sails  into  a  thousand  pieces,  the  heav- 
ing of  the  mountain  billows;  at  length,  a  little  re- 
covering from  its  stupify ing  effect,  her  aspirations 
became  more  fervent  than  ever  for  the  preservation 
of  her  life,  in  order  that  an  opportunity  might  be 
afforded  her  of  vindicating  her  innocence.  At 


228  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

length,  as  if  spent  by  its  own  violence,  the  storm 
gradually  began  to  die  away,  permitting  the  nearly- 
exhausted  crew  to  recover  tranquillity. 

The  necessity  there  was  for  being  fully  enlight- 
ened on  the  subject  of  the  contrivances  against 
her,  occasioned  Angeline  to  take  advantage  of  this 
circumstance,  in  despite  of  sickness  and  languor, 
to  renew  the  interrogations  to  which  it  had  given 
birth,  and  in  consequence  of  which  she  at  length 
became  possessed  of  all  the  required  particulars, 
that  is,  of  Miss  Roscrea's  motives  for  acting  as  she 
had  done;  for  of  Villiers  Esther  knew  nothing, 
Miss  Roscrea  politely  making  it  a  rule  never  to 
impart  more  to  her  confidents  than  was  absolutely 
essential  to  the  furtherance  of  her  schemes.  Still 
under  the  influence  of  the  feelings  that  had  impelled 
her  to  betray  herself,  she  readily  promised  Ange- 
Hne  to  render  herself  subservient,  in  any  way  she 
should  desire,  to  her  acquittal :  in  consequence, 
Angeline  could  not  admit  a  doubt  of  all  not  yet 
ending  happily,  of  speedily  finding  her  relieved 
from  the  anxiety  that  had  so  long  embittered  her 
peace.  With  what  grateful  transport  did  her  heart 
swell  at  the  idea  !  how  exquisite  her  rapture — how 
pure  her  happiness,  at  the  smiling  prospect  thai 
again  began  to  open  to  her  view !  she  resolved  on 
an  immediate  return  to  her  father ;  and  trusted, 
from  the  unreserved  communication  she  now  in- 
tended, he  would  easily  be  enabled  to  discover 
Villiers. 

At  the  expiration  of  three  days,  the  vessel  en- 
tered the  harbour  of  Dublin  ;  and  towards  even- 
ing, Angeline  and  her  companion  were  landed  on 
one  of  the  quays,  and  immediately  proceeded  to  a 
contiguous  house  of  public  resort,  but  of  such  a 
description,  as  revived  the  sensation  she  had  expe* 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

rienced  on  entering  the  vessel,  and  occasioned  her 
fo  determine  on  repairing,  without  delay,  to  anoth- 
er. To  her  utter  consternation  and  amazement, 
however,  on  avowing  this  determination,  her  com- 
panion very  abruptly  declared,  it  was  one  she 
could  not  think  of  acquiescing  in,  conceiving  the 
place  quite  good  enough  for  their  accommodation 
for  one  night ;  and  besides,  having  appointed  a  per- 
son to  meet  her  there. 

Penitence  is  seldom  more  than  short -lived  where 
there  is  no  fixed  principle;  with  the  dissipation  of 
her  terrors,  at  finding  herself  once  more  on  ferra 
jirma>  had  vanished  all  Mrs.  Esther's  late  contri- 
tion ;  and  to  atone  for  the  weakness  to  which  she 
considered  it  owing,  she  more  firmly  than  ever  re- 
iolved  on  the  fulfilment  of  her  promises  to  Miss 
JRosCrea :  her  altered  tone  and  manner  at  once 
sufficed  to  let  Angeline  perceive  the  change  her 
Sentiments  had  undergone ;  but  though  alarmed 
beyon^  expression  by  the  conviction,  she  yet  had 
sufficient  command  of  herself  to  veil  her  terror ; 
she  knew  she  was  at  the  instant  completely  in  her 
power,  and  conceived,  therefore,  her  only  plan 
was  to  try  and  throw  her  off  her  guard,  which  she 
was  aware  she  could  only  hope  to  do  by  appearing 
unsuspicious  of  her;  accordingly  she  forced  her- 
aelf  to  assume  an  air  of  unconcern,  as  to  her  stay 
or  removal ;  but  after  tea,  pleading  extreme  fatigue, 
expressed  a  wish  to  lie  down  till  supper.  This  was 
a  wish  which  her  companion  had  no  objection  to 
complying  with,  from  the  opportunity  her  doing  so 
would  afford  her  of  having  a  little  conversation  with 
the  people  of  the  house,  with  whom  she  was  well 
acquainted :  accordingly  she  conducted  her  to  a 
chamber,  and  then  left  her.  Angeline  softly  open- 
ed the  door  on  her  retiring ;  and  having  assured 


230  MONASTERY  OP  ST.  COLUMB. 

herself,  by  listening  for  a  few  minutes,  that  she  was 
engaged  in  conversation  at  the  bar,  hastily  made  up 
the  few  necessaries  she  had  puchased  at  Whiteha- 
ven  into  a  parcel,  and  descending  the  creaking 
stairs  with  a  palpitating  heart,  quickly  found  her- 
self in  the  street. 

She  hurried  forward  as  chance  directed  until  she 
had  got  to  some  distance  from  the  house,  when  she 
ventured  to  pause,  for  the  purpose  of  inquiring  of  a 
decent-looking  woman,  whom  she  met  at  the  mo- 
ment, the  way  to  a  stand  of  coaches;  the  woman 
civilly  directed  her;  and  obeying  her, instruct  ions, 
she  presently  found  herself  in  College  Green,  where 
she  readily  procured  one ;  and  on  entering  it,  de* 
sired  the  man  to  proceed  to  the  nearest  inn  where 
carnages  for  travelling  were  to  be  hired;  for  instead 
of  persevering  in  her  original  intention  of  return- 
ing immediately  to  Rooksdale,  she  now  decided  on 
directly  repairing  to  St.  Ruth,  feeling  without 
the  support  his  presence  would  afford  her,  his  tes- 
timony of  her  truth,  his  expostulations  in  her  fa- 
vour, she  could  not  have  courage  to  face  her  father, 
impressed  as  she  knew  he  must  be,  from  what  had 
happened,  with  a  terrible  belief  of  her  unworthi- 
ness,  or  rather  from  her  inability,  owing  to  the  sud- 
den revolution  the  feelings  of  Miss  Roscrea's  un- 
principled confident  had  undergone,  to  bring  for- 
ward any  positive  proof  of  her  innocence  ;  but  oh, 
Heavens!  what  was  the  anguish  of  her  soul  at  the 
idea,  that,  even  with  him  to  advocate  her  cause, 
she  might  fail  of  vindicating  herself,  in  any  degree 
fail  of  regaining  the  esteem,  the  affection  of  those 
whose  regard  strong  attachment  rendered  absolute- 
ly essential  to  her  peace  !  in  bitterness  of  spirit  at 
the  possibility,  she  raised  her  trembling  hands  to 
heaven,  with  a  fervent  hope,  that,  if  such  proved 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  2ol 

the   case,  she  might   not  be  long  spared  to  weep 
over  the  misery  entailed  on  her. 

Alas!  her  fluctuations  between  hope  and  fear 
evinced  her  being  not  yet  perfectly  aware  of  the 
lengths  to  which  ardent  passions,  the  sudden  im- 
pulse of  strong  resentment  in  a  mind  of  warm  feel- 
ings, are  capable  of  carrying  us.  To  punish  her 
supposed  degeneracy,  her  father  had  resolved  on 
punishing  himself:  to  this  resolution  he  was  incited 
by  the  letter  fabricated  in  her  name  by  Miss  Ros- 
crea,  and  delivered  to  him  on  her  being  missed,  in 
which,  after  avowing  her  being  the  Miss  De  Burgh 
of  whom  he  had  heard  from  the  marquis,  she  pro- 
ceeded to  declare  her  elopement  occasioned  by 
the  arrival  of  lady  Rosamond  at  the  Abbey,  a  cir- 
cumstance that,  rendering  any  longer  concealment 
of  her  former  conduct  impossible,  made  her  deem 
any  further  restraint  on  herself  unnecessary ;  ai;d 
concluding  by  avowing,  that  should  his  forgiveness 
to  it  be  refused,  she  should  endeavour  to  console 
herself  under  his  displeasure,  by  the  reflection, 
that  his  resentment  could  not  be  manifested  by  any 
alienation  of  his  property. 

This  indeed  was  true,  his  estate  being  an  entail- 
ed one ;  but  though  he  could  not  alter  the  settle- 
ment, still  an  expedient  might  be  found  for  disap- 
pointing her  expectations;  marriage,  of  course, 
was  the  only  one  that  could  be  devised  for  the  pur- 
pose, and  accordingly  he  resolved  on  a  second  one ; 
not,  however,  without  the  most  terrible  struggles, 
so  repugnant  to  his  feelings  was  the  idea  of  formiiig 
new  connexions,  of  swerving  in  any  degree  from 
his  ancient  habits,  of  violating  the  vow  of  unalter- 
able constancy  he  had  uttered  on  the  early  fu»-'b 
of  her  whom  a  cruel  fate  so  soon  deprived  him  of. 
-But  there  was  no  alternative  between  either  de>- 


MONASTERY    O¥    ST.    COLUMB. 

ciding  on  a  measure  to  which  every  feeling  wag 
averse,  or  else  allowing  a  shameless  child  to  triumph 
in  the  idea  of  being  able  to  insult  him  with  impuni* 
ty.  Good  GodJ  and  was  she  capable  of  a  thing 
of  the  kind?  capable  of  voluntarily  insuHing  tiie 
feelings  of  any  one,  and  then  triumphing  at  the 
idea?  she  whose  looks,  whose  sentiments,  were 
all  so  indicative  of  tenderness  and  sensibility  ! 
whose  manners  were  so  truly  feminine!  whose  ele- 
gance appeared  so  evidently  inherent  I  Oh,  scarce 
could  he  believe  it  possible !  scarce  that  it  was  Lot 
too  monstrous  a  contradiction  to  be  credited !  but 
the  proofs  of  its  being  the  case  were  too  positive 
to  permit  it  to  be  doubted;  the  corroborations  of 
her  guilt  too  strong  and  well  connected  to  allow 
the  admission  of  a  doubt  in  her  favour — '  And  this 
was  the  creature/  in  bitterness  of  spirit  he  cried, 
'for  whose  restoration  I  was  so  solicitous!  Oh, 
blind  to  fate  indeed,  how  little  do  we  know  what 
we  desire !  how  little  that  the  attainment  of  our 
wishes  may  be  the  termination  of  our  felicity  !— 
Ah,  what  a  proof  that  we  should  resignedly  sub- 
mit every  event  to  the  will  of  Heaven !  that  our 
aspirations  should  be  not  for  what  we  wish,  but 
what,  in  its  infinite  wisdom,  it  may  deem  best  for 
us/ 

Than  death  a  thousand  times  more  terrible  was 
the  idea  of  letting  the  family  at  the  Abbey  know 
his  dreadful  humiliation,  though  well  aware,  in  the 
feelings  it  would  there  excite,  nothing  of  the  tri- 
umph of  exultation  would  mingle;  accordingly, 
resolving  on  concealing  it  as  long  as  possible,  he 
issued  the  necessary  instructions  to  his  steward  for 
the  purpose,  desiring  him  to  account  in  some 
plausible  way  for  his  sudden  departure  from  Rooks- 
dale,  and  the  disappearance  of  Angeline.  Con- 


MONASTERY    OP    ST.    COLUMB.  233 

VHiced,  however,  that  to  pay  a  farewell  visit  at  St. 
Cuthbert's  would  be  to  betray,  or  at  least  excite 
a  suspicion  of  what  he  wished  to  conceal,  from  the 
little  command  he  was  aware  he  could  yet  maintain 
over  himself,  he  decided  on  the  omission  of  this 
ceremony ;  and  the  day  after  Angeline's  supposed 
elopement,  quitted  Rooksdale  for  Bath. 

There  was  something  too  sudden  in  his  depar- 
ture, too  singular  in  his  not  calling  to  take  leave  at 
the  Abbey  ere  it  took  place,  not  to  excite  those 
suspicions  there  which  he  wished  to  prevent — sus- 
picions strengthened  by  the  vague  manner  in  which 
every  inquiry  relative  to  Angeline  was  answered 
by  the  steward,  who  was  the  person  deputed  by 
Clanronel  to  wait  on  the  marquis,  with  intelligence 
of  his  departure;  in  short,  they  began  to  fear  he 
had  discovered  the  truth ;  that  the  state  of  confu- 
sion and  terror  into  which  they  concluded  the  ar- 
rival of  lady  Rosamond  at  St  Cuthbert's  had 
thrown  Angeline,  had  occasioned  her  to  betray 
herself,  and,  in  consequence,  that  he  had  precipi- 
tately quitted  the  neighbourhood,  with  an  inten- 
tion of  no  more  returning  to  it.  The  heart  of  the 
marquis  was  wrung  by  the  supposition  ;  and  in  the 
unhappiness  it  excited,  the  marchioness  sincerely 
participated ;  lady  Rosamond  too,  in  commisera- 
tion for  the  unhappy  father,  losing  her  resentment 
against  the  daughter,  began  bitterly  to  deplore 
having  been  instrumental  to  the  hastening  a  disco- 
very so  fatal  to  his  peace, 

Miss  Roscrea,  an  adept  at  dissimulation,  ap- 
peared to  feel  for  all  parties ;  but  while  her  coun  - 
tenance  wore  an  expression  of  sympathy,  her  heart 
was  the  seat  of  joy  and  exultation;  nothing  now 
remained  for  her  to  do,  but  to  circulate  a  rumour 
of  Angeline's  death;  and  this,  from  the  storm  that 

VOL.  II.  X 


£34  MONASTERY  OP  ST.  COLVM*. 

succeeded  her  departure,  she  was  not  without  a 
Lope  of  being  safely  enabled  to  do.  To  complete 
her  triumph,  she  learnt  that  lord  Hexham  was  to 
be  entreated  to  immediately  return  to  the  Abbey, 
where,  from  the  high  estimation  in  which  she  was 
held,  and  there  being  no  dangerous  competitor  to 
fear,  she  flattered  herself  with  at  length  succeeding 
in  making  that  impression  on  him  she  had  so  long 
ardently  desired. 


CHAP.  XVIi. 

Forlorn  and  lost  I  tread, 

With  fainting  steps  and  slow, 
Where  wilds,  immeasurably  spread, 

Seem  lengthening  as  I  go.  GOLDSMITH. 

AN  CELINE'S  anxiety  to  find  herself  on  her  way  to 
St.  Ruth  was  so  great,  as  to  induce  her  to  deter- 
mine, notwithstanding  the  lateness  of  the  hour, 
and  consequent  risks  to  which  she  should  be  ex- 
posed, on  immediately  commencing  her  journey, 
could  she  procure  a  carriage  for  the  purpose  ;  this, 
however,  was  not  to  be  done  at  the  inn  to  which 
she  was  driven;  they  positively  refused  letting 
her  have  one  till  morning ;  accordingly  she  was 
compelled  to  pass  the  night  there,  though  not  with- 
out terror  and  confusion,  from  the  unfavourable 
surmises  she  was  aware  her  unprotected  appear- 
ance calculated  to  excite.  Whether  or  not  she 
was  ri2;ht  in  her  conjecture,  nothing  occurred  to 
alarm  her:  by  the  hour  she  had  mentioned,  a 
chaise  was  ready  for  her;  and  on  a  cold  hazy  morn- 
jj  2  in  October,  ere  the  busy  population  of  the 
town  was  again  alive,  she  commenced  another  jour- 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  235 

ney  to  St.  Columb's;  but  under  what  different 
circumstances  to  the  former  one  !  then  accompa- 
nied by  the  dearest  of  human  beings,  with  a  glow- 
ing prospect  before  her,  now  solitary  and  dejected, 
dismayed  by  the  past,  and  trembling  for  the  future. 

Amidst  the  anguish  she  felt,  however,  a  transient 
sensation  of  pleasure  was  now  and  then  experienced, 
at  the  idea  of  the  conduct  of  Villiers  being  owing 
to  no  premeditation — of  her  having  been  as  dear  as 
ever  to  his  heart,  at  the  moment  he  had  thrown  her 
from  it.  How,  at  this  reflection,  did  her  soul  dis- 
solve in  tenderness — how  did  she  feel,  that  to  be 
restored  to  his  regard,  to  find  herself  again  enfold- 
ed to  his  bosom,  would  compensate  for  every  pang ! 

By  travelling  without  intermission,  never  allow- 
ing herself  to  pause  but  while  the  carriage  was 
changing,  she  reached  the  end  of  her  fatiguing 
journey  a  little  after  nightfall.  The  kind  of  vague 
terror  that  had  pervaded  her  mind  throughout  the 
whole  of  the  preceding  part  of  the  day  instantly 
vanished,  such  was  the  feeling  of  security  imparted 
by  the  idea  of  being  in  the  vicinity  of  a  friend  ; 
such  a  friend  too  as  St.  Ruth — as  him  who  had  pro- 
mised no  circumstance  should  alienate  his  regard — 
that  with  him  she  should  ever  find  a  home,  a  sanc- 
tuary.— '  Alas !  how  little,  when  he  plighted  this 
promise,'  she  said  within  herself,  *  how  little  did 
he  then  imagine  I  should  so  soon  put  his  sincerity 
to  the  test !  how  little  that  I  should  again  return  to 
his  loved  protection !  again  be  thrown  on  his  kind- 
ness !  Dear,  inestimable  friend,  how  mingled  will 
be  your  emotions  at  our  meeting !  how  will  the  joy 
it  occasions  be  checked  by  the  circumstance  to 
which  it  is  owing/ 

She  alighted  at  the  ferry-house,  and  from  the 
welcome  she  received  from  its  mistress,  almost  felt 


230  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

as  if  it  was  a  home  she  was  entering  :  how  soothing? 
how  delightful  to  her  harassed  spirits  was  this  feel- 
ing ! — how  almost  delicious  the  tears  it  caused  her 
to  shed ! 

On  the  subsiding  of  her  emotion,  an  emotion  that 
for  an  instant  deprived  her  of  voice,  she  eagerly  in- 
quired concerning  St.  Ruth,  by  his  assumed  name, 
asking  when  she  had  seen  him  ? 

*  Not  for  some  time/  the  landlady  replied; 
*  neither  his  friend,  father  Cormac,  whose  growing 
infirmities  now  seldom  permitted  him  to  come 
abroad/ 

Angeline  was  not  alarmed  by  what  she  heard  re- 
lative to  St  Ruth,  knowing  he  at  present  wished, 
as  much  as  possible,  to  remain  in  seclusion :  she 
declined  the  landlady's  offer  of  sending  the  next 
morning  to  acquaint  him  with  her  arrival,  preferring 
to  announce  it  herself  in  person ;  and  after  taking 
?;ome  slight  refreshment,  retired  to  the  repose  her 
exausted  frame  so  much  needed, 

But  her  anxiety  to  behold  St.  Ruth,  her  anxiety 
to  make  an  effort  for  the  redress  of  her  injuries, 
was  too  great  to  permit  her  to  court  repose  longer 
than  was  absolutely  necessary;  accordingly  she 
arose  at  an  early  hour,  and  immediately  after 
breakfast  proceeded  to  St.  Columb's.  How  did 
her  heart  palpitate  at  the  idea  of  the  anticipated 
meeting,  when,  through  the  bushy  trees,  she  at 
length  caught  a  glimpse  of  its  grey  walls  and  ivy- 
covered  battlements ! — how,  when  she  at  length 
found  herself  within  its  ancient  portal!  yet  all  was 
calculated  to  still  the  wild  emotions  of  the  heart, 
for  all  was  silence  and  solitude ;  not  a  sound  was  to 
be  heard,  nor  did  any  gliding  figure  meet  the  eye 
in  the  distant  perspective  of  the  receding  arches ; 
it  seemed  as  if  the  holy  inmates  of  the  pile  had  at 


MONASTERY  OP  ST.  COLUMB.  23? 

length  resigned  it  to  the  ruin  .that  had  already 
overtaken  it.  Angeline,  however,  continued  to  ad- 
vance up  the  lonely  hall,  chequered  at  the  moment 
with  the  varied  light  admitted  through  the  stained 
windows ;  but  just  as  she  had  reached  a  distant 
door,  opening  to  the  interior  of  the  building,  one 
of  the  monks  made  his  appearance;  Angeline 
bowed  her  head  as  his  eyes  fell  on  her,  and  in  trem- 
bling accents  inquired  for  De  Burgh. 

Almost  starting  at  the  inquiry,  he  looked  ear- 
nestly at  her  for  a  moment,  and  then  informed  her 
De  Burgh  was  gone, 

'  Gone!'  she  repeated  with  wildness;  'gone!' 
in  a  tone  of  agony. 

'  Yes/  he  repeated ;  '  he  departed  hence  a 
week  ago  for  Cork,  for  the  purpose  of  embarking 
•thence  for  Spain,  whither  he  has  been  summoned 
by  a  letter/ 

Angeline  clasped  her  hands  despairingly,  her 
head  became  giddy  from  disappointment,  and  stag- 
gering back  a  few  paces,  she  would  have  fallen,  but 
for  the  timely  interposition  of  the  friar. 

'  Endeavour  to  collect  yourself/  he  said,  on  see- 
ing her  a  little  revive ;  '  if  so  absolutely  essential 
to  you  to  have  a  meeting  with  your  friend,  perhaps 
you  may  succeed  in  obtaining  it,  for  there  is  a  pos- 
sibility that  he  might  not  have  been  able  to  sail  im- 
mediately/ 

Angeline  felt  rescued  from  despair  by  this  sug- 
gestion— '  Oh,  good  God,  may  it  prove  so !'  she 
exclaimed ;  '  I  will  instantly  pursue  his  route,  and 
shall  consider  myself  amply  compensated  for  all  I 
have  gone  through,  if  so  fortunate  as  to  arrive  ere 
he  is  gone/ 

Although  circumstances  might  render  it  impos- 
sible for  him  to  delay  his  voyage,  she  should  still, 


'£38  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

by  seeing  him,  obtain  his  advice,  his  interference 
perhaps  in  a  degree. 

Precipitately  she  was  departing,  for  the  purpose 
of  immediately  setting  out,  when  recollecting  the 
letter  that  had  been  mentioned  as  the  occasion  of 
his  voyage,  she  involuntarily  paused,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  making  some  inquiries  concerning  it. 

The  friar  replied,  it  was  not  in  his  power  to  give 
her  any  information  on  the  subject ;  father  Cormac 
might  perhaps  be  able  to  do  so,  he  said — '  But  1 
cannot  say  whether  you  can  see  him,  as  it  is  not 
every  day  his  feebleness  will  now  permit  him  to 
rise ;  1  will  try,  however,  whether  you  can  do  so.' 

He  accordingly  retired,  but  was  not  absent 
above  a  few  minutes ;  and  on  returning,  informed 
her  father  Cormac  was  up,  and  would  be  happy  to 
see  her. 

She  accordingly  followed  to  his  cell,  at  the  en- 
trance to  which  her  conductor  left  her.  She  found 
the  venerable  father  seated  on  a  little  couch,  en- 
joying, with  a  placid  countenance,  the  mild  sun- 
shine his  small  casement  admitted  into  the  apart- 
ment. He  received  her  with  an  air  of  kindness, 
and  motioned  for  her  to  take  a  seat  beside  him  ; 
but  she  excused  herself — '  My  impatience  to  fol- 
low our  mutual  friend  will  not  permit  me  to  linger/ 
she  said ;  '  but  ere  1  go,  I  could  wish  to  ascertain 
whether  the  letter  that  calls  him  away  comes  from 
count  Tirconnel  ?' 

'  It  does,  my  child,'  replied  the  venerable  fa- 
ther. 

'  And  expressive  of  contrition,  I  hope?' 

He  shook  his  aged  head—'  The  count  was  ill/ 
he  replied,  '  when  he  wrote,  and  therefore  express- 
ed some  regret  for  the  past ;  but  the  penitence  that 
Is  only  experienced  in  the  hour  of  sickness  is  sd- 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  239 

dom  permanent.  Let  us  not  despair,  however; 
there  is  no  heart  so  hardened  that  it  may  not  be 
touched  with  real  remorse.  Should  you  have  the 
happiness  of  seeing  your  friend  ere  his  embarkation, 
bear  him  my  best  wishes — bear  him  too  my  last 
farewell,  for  in  this  world  I  feel  we  shall  no  more 
meet :  the  lamp  burns  now  too  feebly  to  permit  me 
to  imagine  it  will  not  be  extinguished  ere  his  re- 
turn ;  but  1  depart  hence  with  the  cheering  hope 
of  a  reunion  in  the  other  world  with  those  1  love, 
amongst  the  happy  and  rejoicing  spirits  of  good 
men  made  perfect/ 

'  Cheering  hope  indeed  !'  repeated  Angeline 
emphatically,  and  involuntarily  raising  her  humid 
eyes  to  heaven ;  '  oh,  never  may  my  heart  lose 
the  consolation  it  imparts !  Oh,  father,  but  for 
it,  how,  with  any  fortitude,  could  we  support  the 
dissolution  of  our  earthly  ties  !' 

'  How  indeed !'  returned  the  aged  father ;  '  but 
the  God  that  chastens,  remembering  what  we  are, 
enables  us  to  support  affliction  by  his  divine  sug- 
gestions ;  he  bids  us  look  beyond  this  vale  of  tears, 
and  doing  so,  we  derive  comfort/ 

Angeline  listened  with  reverence  to  him;  his 
appearance  indeed  was  calculated  to  fix  attention ; 
he  looked  indeed  so  like  a  thing  already  enskyed 
and  sainted — already  so  elevated  above  all  the 
gross  concerns — so  completely  disentangled  from 
them  of  this  nether  scene,  that  as,  at  the  moment  of 
taking  leave,  she  kissed  his  hand,  pale  as  the  mar- 
ble of  the  tomb,  and  already  cold  as  its  clay,  she 
would  have  knelt  to  implore  his  blessing,  but  for 
a  dread,  as  the  tender  Perdita  says,  of  being  deem- 
ed superstitious. 

Hastening  back  to  the  ferry-house,  she  directly 
ordered  a  chaise,  and  in  the  course  of  a  few  minute* 


240  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

was  on  her  way  to  Cork ;  again  she  travelled  with- 
out pausing,  and,  in  consequence,  found  herself  at 
the  end  of  her  journey  by  an  early  hour  the  next 
morning,  just  as,  through  its  dispersing  mists,  the 
ocean  was  beginning  to  gleam  upon  the  sight. — 
Alighting  at  the  house  to  which  she  was  directed 
to  inquire  for  St.  Ruth,  she  eagerly  asked  for  him ; 
but  oh !  how  impossible  to  declare  the  pang  of  that 
moment—how  impossible  to  describe  her  wild 
agony,  on  being  informed  that  he  had  sailed  about 
an  hour  before  1 — <  In  that  very  vessel/  cried  the 
hostess,  throwing  up  a  sash,  and  directing  her 
look  towards  it, *  that  now  appears  just  like  a  spot 
in  the  horizon.* 

4ngeline  almost  shrieked  with  despair — <  Bui 
an  hour  ago,  you  say !  But  an  hour  ago  he  sailed  f 
she  exclaimed.  '  Oh  God,  my  God,  what  will  be- 
come of  me  ?  Would  that  I  could  follow  him !' 

'  Follow  him  !'  repeated  the  landlady,  eyeing 
her  askance ;  '  a  likely  thing  truly !  No,  no : 
there's  no  posting  at  sea/ 

f  Oh,  I  know  it !  I  know  it !'  replied  Angeline, 
wringing  her  hands,  as  she  still  kept  her  almost 
starting  eyes  strained  upon  the  vessel ;  '  oh  1  know 
it !'  she  cried,  scarcely  conscious  of  what  she  said, 
*  and  resign  myself  to  despair/ 

This  was  indeed  the  case ;  she  had  persuaded 
herself  to  believe  her  restoration  to  fame  impracti- 
cable without  his  interference,  and,  in  consequence, 
finding  him  gone  had  filled  her  with  dismay. 

Ah !  little  at  the  moment,  was  he  aware  of  the 
wild  anguish  his  departure  had  excited  ;  ah!  little 
of  the  streaming  eyes  that  followed  his  receding 
course ;  ah !  little  of  the  trembling  hands  that 
were  extended  in  hopeless  supplication  towards 
Mm,  Oh,  had  he  been — had  he  known  that  the 


MONASTERY  OP  ST.  «€>LUMB.  241 

daughter  of  his  affection,  the  child  of  his  adoption, 
required  his  aid,  what  would  have  prevented  his 
making  an  effort  to  return  ?  But  he  was  spared 
the  pang  that  would  have  attended  the  perhaps 
useless  knowledge — spared  the  pang  of  knowing 
they  were  destined  to  meet  no  more  in  this  life. 
Yes,  St.  Ruth,  the  generous  and  the  brave,  he 
whose  noble  heart  had  so  early  breathed  the  sigh 
of  sympathy  for  others— -so  early  learned  that 
from  affliction  there  is  no  exemption,  he  was  doom- 
ed to  find  a  grave  in  the  element  on  which  he  now 
floated,  a  resting  place  amidst  the  wild  waters  of 
the  deep. 

The  violence  of  Angeline's  emotions  at  length 
began  to  subside,  her  wild  transports  to  give  way 
to  the  reflection  of  the  necessity  there  was  for  her 
endeavouring  to  collect  herself :  a  little  recovering 
from  the  shock  she  had  experienced,  she  could  not 
avoid  acknowledging,  that  she  should  indeed  justly 
lose  the  protection  of  Providence,  if  capable  of 
abandoning  herself  to  despair,  because  deprived  of 
mortal  aid ;  yet  so  essential  did  she  consider  St. 
Ruth's,  that  until  his  return,  which,  from  the  inter- 
rogations she  addressed  to  the  landlady  when  a 
little  recovered,  she  understood  might  be  soon, 
she  resolved  on  making  no  effort  for  the  redress  of 
her  injuries,  no  attempt  to  enter  into  an  explana- 
tion with  her  father ;  and  to  which  resolve  she  was 
still  further  incited,  by  a  dread  of  the  new  machi- 
nations to  which  she  might  be  exposed,  should  she 
afford  any  clue  whereby  she  might  be  traced,  and 
which,  she  was  aware,  she  could  scarcely  avoid 
doing,  if  she  addressed  a  letter  to  Rooksdale. 

On  silence  and  concealment,  therefore,  she  for 
the  present  decided,  though  not  without  the  most 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

agonizing  conflicts,  from  the  conviction  of  what  she 
was  suffering,  in  the  opinion  of  those  she  regarded. 

She  had  no  sooner  decided  how  to  act,  than  she 
applied  to  the  landlady  to  know  whether  she  could 
assist  her  in  procuring  a  lodging,  where  she  might 
with  safety  await  the  return  of  her  friend  ? 

She  was  answered  in  the  affirmative;  and  as 
soon  as  she  had  recruited  her  exhausted  frame,  by 
a  little  rest  and  refreshment,  it  was  settled  that  she 
should  proceed  thither.  But  her  heart  sunk  at  the 
thought,  that  if  not  a  place  of  a  very  plain  de- 
scription, she  must  avoid  becoming  its  inmate,  the 
money  she  had  brought  with  her  from  Rooksdale 
.being  by  this  time  nearly,  exhausted. 

The  anxiety  and  agitation  of  her  mind  rendered 
ineffectual  her  efforts  for  repose,  and  accordingly 
she  very  soon  expressed  a  wish  to  depart.  The 
house  to  which  she  was  referred  was  in  Cork,  a  few 
miles  from  the  Cove;  just  as  she  alighted,  and  was 
entering  it,  a  female  voice,  calling  to  her  by  the  fa- 
miliar name  of  De  Burgh,  occasioned  lier  to  turn, 
and  to  her  extreme  surprise  she  beheld  Miss  El- 
mere — '  My  dear  creature/  cried  this  young  lady, 
with  every  appearance  of  ecstasy,  hastening  to 
meet  her,  and  eagerly  grasping  her  hands,  *  how 
enraptured  am  1  at  beholding  you  !  from  what 
cloud  did  you  drop  thus  unexpectedly  before  me  ? 
Heavens!  how  ardently  have  1  sought  to  learn 
your  residence,  that  if  I  enjoyed  not  your  converse, 
1  might,  at  least,  have  the  felicity  of  corresponding 
with  you  !  But  1  wish,  by  accompanying  me  to 
my  lodgings,  which  are  near  this,  you  would  afford 
me  an  opportunity  of  conversing  a  little  with  you.J 

Angeline  could  not  bring  herself  to  decline  com- 
plying with  this  wish ;  so  forlorn,  so  desolate  in- 
deed did  she  feel  herself,  that  she  could  not  help 


MONASTEKY    OF    ST.    COtUMB, 

experiencing  something  of  joy  at  the  meeting,  even 
the  semblance  of  regard  being  grateful  to  the  for- 
saken. 

The  result  of  the  conversation  that^nsued  wag 
a  warm  invitation  from  Miss  Elmere  to  accompa- 
ny her  to  her  villa  near  Dublin,  an  invitation  which, 
after  a  little  hesitation,  Angeline  decided  on  ac- 
cepting, led  by  the  terror  she  experienced  at  the 
idea  of  remaining  without  protection  in  a  strange 
place,  and  a  dread  of  her  finances  being  exhausted 
ere  the  return  of  St.  Ruth,  should  she  incur  any 
heavy  expense.  Uncertain  of  the  length  of  time 
which  she  might  be  destined  to  remain  the  guest 
of  Miss  Elmere,  she  deemed  the  avowal  of  her 
marriage  absolutely  essential  to  her  fame :  not, 
however,  without  an  extreme  degree  of  embarrass- 
ment did  she  reveal  it,  owing  to  the  circumstances 
under  which  she  was  met,  or  rather  the  reflection 
of  the  unpleasant  surmises  they  were  calculated  to 
excite.  In  fearing,  however,  they  might  be  a 
means  of  injuring  her  with  Miss  Elmere,  she  was. 
utterly  mistaken  ;  there  was  a  charm  in  mystery 
to  that  young  lady,  that  rendered  those  involved 
in  it  infinitely  more  interesting  to  her ;  she  quickly 
perceived  that  Angeline  had  some  concealment — 
was  under  some  embarrassment,  a  circumstance 
that  rendered  her  still  more  anxious  for  her  com- 
pany. 

For  being  in  this  part  of  the  kingdom  she  ac- 
counted, by  saying,  she  had  been  on  a  visit  to  the 
Lakes  of  Killarney,  partly  for  the  purpose  of  as- 
certaining whether  their  romantic  beauties  could 
furnish  her  with  a  hint  for  the  embellishment  of  her 
villa,  and  partly  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the  friend 
of  poor  Brillant6,*  who  was  stationed  at  Ross  Cas~ 
lie,  and  now,  she  confessed,  her  avowed  lover. 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

The  ensuing  day  was  the  one  fixed  for  her  de- 
parture, a  circumstance  that  was  extremely  agree- 
able to  Angeline,  from  the  wish  she  felt  to  be  again 
settled  for  a  little  while.  She  did  not  depart,  how- 
ever, without  leaving  a  letter  for  St.  Ruth  with 
the  landlady  at  the  Cove. 

After  an  easy  journey  of  some  days,  they  at 
length  reached  the  residence  of  Miss  Elmere,  on 
the  road  to  Wicklow,  a  place,  as  she  herself  said, 
of  great  capabilities,  but  which  she  had  so  torn, 
through  her  whims,  as  to  render  it,  at  present, 
the  very  reverse  of  a  pleasant  dwelling;  but  Ange- 
iine  did  not  feel  any  dissatisfaction  at  this,  on  un- 
derstanding, that,  till  fitted  up  according  to  the 
taste  of  its  mistress,  she  did  not  propose  seeing 
any  company,  as  nothing  could  possibly  have  been, 
more  distressing  to  her,  than  being  compelled  to 
mix  in  society,  situated  as  she  was. 

She  availed  herself  of  her  vicinity  to  town,  to 
make  inquiries  concerning  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dillon; 
the  result  of  these  tended  not  a  little  to  heighten 
her  uneasiness,  from  discovering  to  her  their  de- 
parture for  the  continent ;  and  thus  putting  it  out 
of  her  power  to  procure  their  testimony  of  her 
marriage,  should  it  prove  necessary. 

That  this,  however,  would  not  prove  the  case, 
she  was  led  to  flatter  herself  from  her  revived 
opinion  of  the  honour  of  Villiers;  but  felt,  while 
under  a  doubt  on  the  subject,  the  experience  of 
tranquillity,  in  any  degree,  impossible.  The  idea 
of  what  her  father  must  be  suffering  on  her  account 
baunted  her  imagination  continually,  impelling  her 
almost,  at  times,  for  the  purpose  of  endeavouring 
to  relieve  him  from  it,  to  an  immediate  explana- 
tion ;  but  still,  as  often  as  she  meditated  this,  she 
was  induced  to  relinquish  the  idea,  by  a  dread  of 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  £46 

its  proving  ineffectual,  without  some  other  testi- 
mony in  her  favour  than  her  own.  In  a  word,  she 
resolved  on  adhering  to  her  original  determination 
of  remaining  passive  under  her  wrongs,  till  the  re- 
turn of  St.  Ruth,  which,  from  what  she  had  heard, 
she  concluded  would  be  about  the  expiration  of 
three  months,  and  to  the  termination  of  which  pe- 
riod she  accordingly  looked  with  all  the  impatience 
of  anxiety  ;  it  was  just  at  hand,  when  the  lover 
of  Miss  Ehnere  arrived,  for  the  purpose  of  being 
present  at  a  grand  fete,  with  which  she  meant  to 
open  her  villa  to  company. 

Jn  the  course  of  conversation,  after  dinner,  he 
began  to  speak  of  the  general  grief  and  consterna- 
tion excited  in  Cork,  by  the  loss  of  a  vessel  be- 
longing to  it,  with  a  number  of  its  inhabitants  on 
looarcl,  off  the  coast  of  Spain. 

.Angeline  tremblingly  inquired  its  name,  and  the 
part  of  the  coast  on  which  it  had  foundered  ?  He 
explicitly  informed  her ;  and  was  beginning  to  give 
some  particulars  of  the  melancholy  catastrophe, 
when  her  dropping  from  her  chair  prevented  him 
— it  was  the  vessel  in  which  St.  Ruth  had  embark- 
ed, and  who,  with  every  other  soul  on  board, 
had  perished.  Several  hours  elapsed  ere  Angeline 
was  restored  to  her  senses  ;  and  when  she  was,  the 
wild  agony  she  betrayed  almost  occasioned  those 
who  had  assisted  in  recovering  her  to  reproach 
themselves  for  having  done  so ;  now  indeed  she  felt 
herself  forlorn — now  indeed  bewildered  by  the 
contemplation  of  her  situation.  Her  grief  and  hor- 
ror, at  the  disastrous  fate  of  her  more  than  father, 
received  the  only  augmentation  they  were  capable 
of  receiving,  in  the  belief  of  there  being  now 
nothing,  in  consequence,  to  hope  for.  But  inde- 
pendently of  every  selfish  consideration,  her  af~ 

VOL.  II.  Y 


246  MONASTERY    ®F    ST.    COLUMB. 

fliction  for  his  loss  was  so  great,  so  overwhelming, 
that  but  for  the  sake  of  her  unborn  infant,  she 
probably  would  have  submitted,  without  a  further 
struggle,  to  fate.  But  again  was  she  so  situated, 
as  to  forbid  the  supine  indulgence  of  grief;  all  hope 
of  the  interference  of  another  person  being  now  at 
an  end,  she  had  no  excuse  for  longer  delaying  her 
vindication,  and  accordingly  decided  on  embark- 
ing the  ensuing  day  for  England.  The  concern 
Miss  Elmere's  lover  manifested  for  her  had  ex- 
cited feelings  in  the  mind  of  that  young  lady,  that 
prevented  any  opposition  on  her  part  to  this  de- 
cision ;  and  accordingly,  in  the  inclement  month 
of  January,  Angeline  once  more  commenced  a 
long  journey  by  herself;  but  although,  from  the 
exhaustion  of  her  frame,  a  little  rest,  on  her  arri- 
val at  the  Head,  was  almost  essential  to  her,  she 
yet  feared  to  grant  herself  this  indulgence,  from 
the  almost  equal  exhaustion  of  her  finances:  in 
consequence  of  the  apprehension  their  low  state 
excited,  she  proceeded  as  expeditiously  as  possi- 
ble towards  Rooksdale. 

Her  first  resolve  was  to  enter  at  once  the  pre* 
sence  of  her  father;  but  as  she  drew  near  the 
termination  of  her  journey,  her  courage  utterly 
failed  her ;  and  instead  of  persevering  in  this,  she 
decided  on  addressing  an  explanatory  letter  to  him. 

Accordingly  she  stopped  at  a  little  obscure  inn, 
about  five  miles  from  the  mansion,  and  thence,  in 
the  course  of  an  hour,  dispatched  a  letter  to  him. 

*  To  Mr.  Clanronel,*  read  the  landlady,  casting 
her  eyes  on  the  superscription,  as  she  handed  it 
to  a  messenger  without  the  parlour.  '  You  don't 
know,  ma'am,  perhaps/  returning  to  the  fireplace, 
and  beginning  to  eye  Angeline  suspiciously,  *  that 
the  'squire  is  married  again  ?' 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  247 

Angeline  almost  started  from  her  seat — '  Mar- 
ried !'  she  repeated  with  a  look  of  wildness.  '  Good 
God,  is  it  possible !' 

*  Yes,  indeed,  it  is  very  possible,  ma'am ;  he 
was  married  some  months  ago,  to  the  great  surprise 
of  all  in  these  parts ;  for,  from  his  remaining  a 
widower  many  years,  and  continually  declaring  he 
never  meant  to  change  his  state  again,  no  one  ex- 
pected a  thing  of  the  kind ;  more  especially  as  his 
finding  a  daughter  that  had  been  a  long  time  lost, 
did  not  let  him  want  an  heir  to  his  estate ;  but  what 
we  wish  to  do,  we  never  want  excuses  to  do ;  and 
as  1  say  to  my  husband,  says  1,  there's  no  depen- 
dance  to  be  placed  on  the  promises  of  men — they 
are  all  given  to  fickleness  and  changing.  But,  to 
be  sure,  there's  something  odd  in  the  business 
about  Miss;  and  perhaps,  after  all,  to  something 
she  has  done  may  his  having  married  so  hastily  be 
owing;  for  'tis  shrewdly  suspected,  owing  to  nobo- 
dy knoAving  where  she  is,  that  she  has  done  some- 
thing to  displease  him  ;  and  if  so,  he  was  right,  to 
be  sure,  in  what  he  did ;  though,  poor  gentleman, 
whether  he  rejoices  at  it,  is  another  guess  matter ; 
arid  indeed  'tis  thought  he  does  not,  and  that  his 
present  illness  is  owing  to  his  vexation  at  it.' 

Angeline  clasped  her  hands  despairingly ;  she 
at  once  surmised  to  what  her  father's  precipitate 
marriage  was  owing;  and  the  idea  of  his  repenting 
it  heightened  the  agony  occasioned  by  the  reflec- 
tion of  the  resentment  it  manifested — '  Oh,  why — 
why,'  she  mentally  exclaimed,  '  why  was  I  ever 
restored  to  him!  But  for  that  unhappy  circum- 
stance, how  tranquilly  might  the  remainder  of  his 
days  have  passed  !  but,  oh,  my  God!  though  I 
have  to  deplore  being  the  cause  of  misery  to  him, 
grant  that  1  may  not  have  to  lament  being  the 


248  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

means  of  entailing  it  on  him — grant  that  the  new 
tie  he  has  formed  may  at  length  prove  a  source  of 
felicity  to  him !  at  length — ah !  perhaps  it  had  al- 
ready done  so/  she  reflected — '  already  occasion- 
ed the  complete  estrangement  of  his  affections 
from  her — already  such  a  revolution  in  his  senti- 
ments, as  might  cause  her  appearance  within  his 
gates  to  be  deemed  an  intrusion.' 

She  sunk  beneath  the  overwhelming  thought — 
the  agonizing  anticipation  of  forlornness  it  excited  ; 
and  desiring  to  be  informed  when  her  messenger 
returned,  begged  to  be  conducted  to  a  chamber. 


CHAP.  XVIII. 

The  ills  I've  borne  ev'n  o'er  my  slumbers  reign, 
And  in  ead  dreams  torment  me  o'er  again. 

OTWAY. 

BUT  in  forming  such  a  surmise,  Angeline  greatly 
wronged  her  father ;  no  circumstance  could  destroy 
his  regard — no  new  tie  estrange  his  affections  ;  even 
the  violence  of  his  indignation  evinced  the  strength 
of  his  attachment ;  for  had  he  loved  her  less,  less 
gloried,  less  prided  himself  in  her,  he  would  less 
have  resented  her  supposed  dereliction. 

Bath,  to  which  he  proceeded  from  Rooksdale, 
was  a  place  where  he  found  no  great  difficulty  in 
fulfilling  the  intention  that  carried  him  thither : 
amongst  the  intimacies  he  formed,  there  was  one 
with  lady  Hilmore  and  her  three  daughters,  all  still 
at  liberty  to  receive  matrimonial  overtures ;  and 
which  ended  in  his  shortly  leading  to  the  Hyme- 
neal altar  the  eldest  of  the  young  ladies ;  but  the 
irrevocable  vow  was  scarcely  plighted,  ere  remorse 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  249 

and  regret  for  the  precipitancy  of  the  measure  took 
possession  of  his  heart,  convincing  him,  that,  ia 
every  instance. 

'  Kevenge,  though  sweet  at  first, 
Bitter  ere  long,  back  on  itself  recoils.' 

He  shrunk  from  the  idea  of  the  new  engagement 
he  had  formed — the  idea  of  launching  anew  into 
life,  with  a  heart  torn  with  conflicting  feelings,  in- 
capable of  any  transfer  of  its  affections :  in  any 
way,  he  conceived  himself  still  doomed  to  misery ; 
but  now  felt  convinced,  that  to  have  allowed  him- 
self the  melancholy  privilege  of  brooding  over  it 
in  secret,  would  have  been  no  small  alleviation  of 
it.  To  recal  the  past,  however,  was  impossible, 
and  he  therefore  endeavoured  to  conceal  the  re- 
pentance that  wras  unavailing;  but  ill  at  dissem- 
bling, his  countenance  betrayed  his  feelings,  con- 
vincing the  world  that  he  was  not,  at  least,  an  ob- 
ject of  envy. 

But  his  cup  of  misery  was  not  yet  full.  He 
would  gladly  have  delayed  returning  immediately 
to  Rooksdale,  but  his  lady  was  too  impatient  to  be- 
hold the  noble  mansion  of  which  she  had  so  unex- 
pectedly become  mistress,  to  permit  any  excuse  he 
could  suggest  for  the  purpose  io  avail ;  according- 
ly, in  less  than  a  week  after  his  regreHed  nuptials, 
he  again  found  himself  there.  The  pain  and  con- 
fusion of  announcing  these,  the  public  prints  had 
spared  him;  but  they  could  not  save  him^from  the 
pain  and  confusion  he  experienced,  at  hearing,  on 
every  side,  of  the  surprise  they  had  excited — a 
surprise,  the  avowal  of  which  seemed  a  tacit  re- 
proach to  him  for  folly. 

Of  the  motive  to  which  his  precipitate  marriage 
was  owing,  the  family  at  the  Abbey,  like  Ar?geline, 
Y  2 


250  MONASTERY    OF  ST.  COLVMB. 

scarcely  doubted,  and,  in  consequence,  felt  infinite- 
ly more  inclined  to  compassionate  than  condemn 
him  for  it  To  be  out  of  suspense,  however,  as  to 
this,  was  absolutely  essential  to  their  domestic  tran- 
quillity, owing  to  the  belief  they  had  been  led  to 
entertain  of  the  attachment  of  Roscrea  to  Ange- 
line  ;  the  marquis  accordingly  did  not  long  delay 
obtaining  an  opportunity  of  conversing  alone  with 
him,  for  the  express  purpose  of  introducing  her 
name.  Clanronel  started  at  the  sound,  and  hastily 
retreated  to  a  window.  The  marquis  hesitated  for 
a  moment  how  to  act,  then  approaching  him — 
*  Pardon  me,'  he  cried,  *  for  being  the  occasion  of 
the  painful  emotion  I  see  you  under ;  and  do  me 
the  justice  to  believe,  that  the  inquiry  to  which  it 
is  owing  was  caused  by  no  idle  curiosity ;  you*  re- 
turning unaccompanied  by  Miss  Clanronel — your 
silence  respecting  her— the  uneasiness  you  are  so 
evidently  under,  all  tended  to  excite  apprehensions 
that  led  to  this  inquiry/ 

Clanronel  suddenly  turned  round,  and  with 
something  of  fierceness  in  his  look — *  Rather/  he 
exclaimed,  '  confess,  that  to  your  previous  know- 
ledge of  her  they  were  owing.  Be  candid ;  depart 
not  from  your  native  ingenuousness,  but  confess 
such  fears  would  never  have  been  experienced,  but 
for  the  secret  communication  you  received  respect- 
ing her/ 

The  marquis,  equally  embarrassed  and  distress- 
ed by  finding  his  surmises  just,  knew  not  what  to 
say.  Ere  he  had  at  all  recovered  from  his  confu- 
sion, Clanronel,  grasping  his  hand,  implored  hLs 
forgiveness,  in  a  subdued  tone,  for  the  manner  in 
which  he  had  just  spoke — '  But  I  am  aware  1  need 
scarcely  ask  you  to  pardon  it/  he  added,  i  from 
the  allowances  your  nature  will  ever  incline  you  to 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  251 

make  for  the  irritations  of  a  wounded  spirit,  the 
perfect  comprehension  you  must  have  of  my  feel- 
ings— the  feelings  of  a  father,  as  a  parent  yourself, 
for  the  loss,  in  such  a  way  as  I  have  lost  mine,  of 
a  child.'  His  voice  faltered  as  he  spoke ;  and 
gushing  into  tears,  he  covered  his  face,  and  again 
turned  from  the  marquis.  t 

But  in  the  midst  of  the  anguish  he  endured,  he 
felt  some  degree  of  ease  from  being  no  longer  un- 
der a  necessity  of  imposing  a  dreadful  restraint  on 
his  tortured  feelings,  owing  to  the  disclosure  that 
had  taken  place. 

The  relief  he  felt  it  to  his  overcharged  heart,  to 
unbosom  himself  to  such  a  friend  as  the  marquis, 
led  him,  by  degrees,  to  an  unreserved  communica- 
tion ®f  all  that  had  occurred  relative  to  Angeline ; 
in  consequence,  the  marquis  was  confirmed  in  his 
fear  of  Roscrea  having  again  forgot  his  solemn  en- 
gagement to  another,  and  accordingly  determined 
on  an  immediate  journey  to  Ireland,  for  the  purpose 
of  endeavouring  to  awaken  him  to  a  sense  of  his 
error,  in  which,  by  succeeding,  he  trusted  he  should 
be  enabled  to  restore  Angeline,  in  a  degree,  to  her 
unhappy  father,  who  had  declared  his  arms  should 
readily  again  be  extended  to  receive  her,  if  once  as- 
sured of  her  penitence,  and  every  thing  in  his 
power  done  to  render  the  seclusion  to  which  error 
had  doomed  her  pleasing. 

This  determination,  however,  was  most  unex- 
pectedly prevented  being  carried  into  effect,  by  the 
sudden  arrival  of  Roscrea  at  St.  Cuthbert's,  on  the 
very  eve  of  his  intended  departure.  But  though 
in  his  appearance  there  was  nothing  of  the  confu- 
sion of  conscious  guilt — those  shrinking  looks  that 
are  inseparably  attendant  on  it,  still  so  powerful 
was  the  impression  of  it,  that  had  he  had  no  other 


252  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

testimonies  of  his  innocence,  than  those  afforded 
by  unagitated  looks  and  manner,  he  probably  would 
have  failed  of  substantial  ing  it ;  but  he  came  fully 
enabled  to  enter  upon  his  justification — fully  en- 
abled to  prove,  that  '  he  was  a  man  more  sinned 
against,  than  sinning/ 

In  the  hurry  of^>ursuit,  on  missing  Angeline,  the 
unprincipled  accomplice  of  Miss  Roscrea  was  pre- 
cipitated down  the  steep  and  narrow  staircase, 
leading  to  the  chamber  in  which  she  imagined  she 
should  have  found  their  intended  victim  She  was 
taken  up  in  a  state  that  precluded  all  hopes  of  her 
recovery  :  her  senses,  however,  were  soon  restor- 
ed ;  and  convinced,  from  what  she  felt,  as  well  as 
her  observations  on  the  looks  of  those  around  her, 
that  there  was  but  little  hopes  of  her  life  being  pro- 
longed, remorse  again  seized  her ;  and  in  conse- 
quence a  messenger  was  dispatched  to  the  elder 
Mr.  Roscrea,  to  request  his  immediate  presence, 
for  the  purpose  of  receiving  a  most  important  com- 
munication from  her;  by  confiding  to  him  the  par- 
ticulars relative  to  Angeline,  she  conceived  she 
should  best  atone  for  her  oifences  against  her; 
since,  though  nothing  could  be  more  repulsive, 
more  repelling  than  his  manners,  still  jus  integrity 
was  of  a  nature  to  allow  her  to  entertain  no  appre- 
hension of  his  not  having  justice  done  her,  though 
at  the  expence  of  those  he  was  connected  with, 
and  in  consequence  of  which  she  resolved  on  mak- 
ing the  confession  to  him.  Her  summons  filled  him 
with  amazement ;  it  was  of  a  nature,  however,  that 
would  not  allow  him  to  have  any  hesitation  in  obey- 
ing it. 

Although,  with  regard  to  his  daughter,  a  stran- 
ger to  those  feelings  that  rendered  so  poignant  the 
anguish  of  Clam-one!,  at  the  supposed  degeneracy 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  253 

of  Angelina,  still  he  could  not  hear  of  such  baseness 
in  a  person  -  so  nearly  allied  to  him,  without  being 
greatly  shocked  ;  but  had  Miss  Roscrea  been  dear 
to  his  heart  as  ever  child  was  to  a  doating  father's, 
still  would  his  determination  have  been  the  same, 
that  of  making  all  the  atonement  possible  for  her 
perfidy,  by  an  explict  disclosure  of  it. 

The  idea  of  the  person  against  whom  her  arts  had 
been  practised,  heightened,  if  possible,  his  anxiety 
for  this  disclosure ;  could  any  thing  have  rendered 
more  indignant  his  feelings  at  her  conduct,  it 
would  have  been  the  reflection,  that  it  was  the 
daughter  of  Clanronel  it  had  been  the  means  of  in- 
juring. 

Hastening  back  to  his  residence,  he  directly 
summoned  his  supposed  son,  as  a  party  concerned 
in  the  affair,  a  sufferer  also  through  the  vile  machi- 
nations of  his  daughter,  to  a.  conference  His  com- 
munication occasioned  equal  astonishment,  distress, 
and  perplexity  to  Roscrea  ;  he  saw  himself  reduced 
by  it  to  the  dreadful  alternative  of  either  allowing 
Angeline  to  remain  the  victim  of  slander,  or  else 
exposing  St.  Ruth  to  danger.  At  length  he  decid- 
ed risking  something  for  the  sake  of  injured  inno- 
cence ;  and  accordingly,  after  a  little  preparation, 
briefly  revealed  to  his  amazed  and  agitated  auditor 
the  statement  he  had  received  in  Spain,  concluding 
with  an  earnest  entreaty  to  be  allowed,  for  the  sake 
of  justice  and  humanity,  to  explain  the  imagined 
connexion  once  existing  between  him  and  Angeline, 
as  the  only  means  in  his  power  of  accounting  in 
such  a  way  for  the  regard  his  actions  manifested 
for  her,  as  should  prove  it  orignated  in  feelings  not 
deserving  of  condemnation. 

*  Oh  !  could  you  look  into  my  heart/  said  his 
astonished  kinsman,  after  an  agitating  pause  of  some 


254  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

minutes,  but  a  pause  not  occasioned  by  any  irresolu- 
tion how  to  act,  but  entirely  the  violence  of  his 
emotions,  '  that  heart  to  which  you  are  still,  and 
will  ever  continue,  as  dear,  because  rendered  so  by 
your  virtues,  as  when  I  imagined  a  closer  tie  con- 
nected us,  you  would  then  find  how  unneccessary 
theapprehension  your  urgent  entreaty  implies.  Your 
anxiety  to  have  justice  done  to  the  injured  cannot 
be  greater  than  mine  ;  dread  not,  therefore,  that  I 
shall  attempt  to  prevent  the  explanation  necessary 
for  the  purpose.  I  should  mock  Heaven  by  pre- 
tended repentence,  did  1  suffer  Clanronel  to  remain 
under  the  pressure  of  any  affliction  1  had  the  pow- 
er of  relieving  him  from.  All  further  concealment 
is  now  at  an  end ;  long  since  should  I  have  been 
explicit  with  you,  but  for  a  fear  of  shocking  you 
by  the  particulars  I  had  to  reveal.  Your  partial 
knowledge  of  them,  through  the  communication  of 
St.  Ruth,  by  relieving  me  from  this  fear,  permits 
an  unreserved  confession,  or  rather,  let  me  say, 
convinces  me  too  forcibly  of  the  necessity  of  it,  to 
allow  me  to  have  any  further  hesitation  on  the  sub- 
ject ;  for  I  cannot  flatter  myself  that  what  you  have 
previously  heard  will  prevent  your  feeling  shocked 
by  what  is  to  follow. 

'  1  will  not  agitate  you,  by  prolonging  your  sus- 
pense :  you  are  acquainted  with  the  means  to  which 
the  restoration  of  Angeline  to  her  father  was  owing. 
The  guilty  wretch  who  was  so  instrumental  to  his 
sufferings  now  stands  before  you !  An  unfortunate 
entanglement  withtheunhappy  woman  whoonce  bore 
a  title  she  never  was  deserving  of,  led  to  this.  You 
start  with  horror  at  the  confession  ;  but  recollect 
what  I  have  solemnly  protested,  that  the  death 
of  Mrs.  Clanronel,  through  my  means,  was  not 
intentional ;  and  though  at  the  tribunal  of  erring 


MONASTERY    OT    ST.    GOLUMB.  255 

man,  erring  because  ever  judging  from  appear- 
ances, 1  might  be  condemned  for  it,  yet  in  the  sight 
of  Heaven  1  must  be  acquitted.  Should  you  re- 
collect, however,  without  believing,  be  assured  I 
shall  use  no  argument  to  try  and  dissuade  you  from 
acting  as  in  that  case  a  sense  of  justice  must  dic- 
tate. Already  have  1  said,  that  regard  for  your 
feelings  alone  occasioned  the  silence  1  have  so  long 
imposed  upon  myself,  with  regard  to  my  former 
actions,  and  shall  therefore  calmly  acquiescence  in 
any  measure  they  may  allow  you  to  pursue/ 

Fergus  started  at  the  terrible  idea  suggested  by 
these  words — the  terrible  idea  of  exposing  to  a 
dreadful  fate,  the  man  who  had  so  long  borne  the 
title  of  his  father ;  he  shrunk  from  it  with  horror,  as 
from  one  of  sacrilege ;  and  not  faint  was  his  grati- 
tude to  Heaven,  for  being  saved,  by  believing  in 
his  assertions,  from  the  excruciating  struggle  that 
might  otherwise  have  taken  place  in  his  mind  be- 
tween justice  and  feeling. 

To  dwell  on  the  scene  that  followed  the  explana* 
nation  of  his  feelings,  is  unnecessary ;  suffice  it  to 
say,  that  on  mutual  composure  being  a  little  restor- 
ed, his  uncle  proceeded  to  give  what  further  par- 
ticulars were  necessary  for  the  elucidation  of  what 
he  avowed  ;  concluding  by  declaring  his  determi- 
nation of  immediately  resigning  to  him  the  full  pos- 
session of  his  paternal  inheritance,  and  withdrawing 
to  some  place  of  seclusion  in  another  kingdom, 
where,  removed  to  a  distance  from  all  that  was  cal- 
culated to  keep  alive  worldly  concerns  in  his  heart, 
he  should  have  nothing  more  to  do,  than  to  devote 
the  remainder  of  his  life  to  preparation  for  the 
next. 

The  particulars  he  communicated  were  brief; 
the  unhappy  woma^  he  had  attached  himself  to 


256  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

accompanied  him  to  the  mansion  of  his  kinsman, 
the  father  of  Roscrea,  from  which,  at  that  time,  all 
decorum  was  banished,  and  by  happening  to  be  in 
an  apartment  communicating  with  the  one  where 
he  was  surprised  slumbering  by  the  count,  became 
a  witness  of  the  subsequent  scene  with  St.  Ruth, 
and  thus  possessed  of  a  secret  that  enabled  her, 
from  a  dread  of  its  being  betrayed,  to  force  him  into 
any  measure  she  chose  to  pursue — a  terrible  proof, 
he  added,  of  the  consequences  of  departing  from 
integrity,  that  one  deviation  from  it  almost  ever 
leads  to  another. 

The  necessary  arrangements  for  the  fulfilment  of 
his  intentions  were  immediately  made ;  and  as  soon 
as  completed,  Roscrea,  taking  an  affecting  leave  of 
him,  affecting,  from  the  conviction  that  they  should 
meet  no  more  in  this  world r  a  conviction  the  light 
in  which  he  had  been  long  led  to  consider  him  would 
not  permit  him  to  feel  without  emotion,  departed  in 
quest  of  Angeline.  That  she  had  hastened  to  St. 
Ruth,  was  too  natural  a  surmise  to  permit  him  to 
hesitate  as  to  the  course  he  should  pursue;  his 
anxiety,  too,  to  reveal  to  St.  Ruth  the  recent  ex- 
planation, as  one  that  freed  him  from  all  further  ne- 
cessity for  concealment,  was  an  additional  motive 
for  his  directly  taking  the  road  to  St  Columb's. 
Anticipating  the  happiness  and  joy  he  so  naturally 
concluded  the  particulars  he  had  to  reveal  must  ex- 
cite, how  great  was  his  disappointment  at  the  in- 
formation he  received  on  arriving  there  !  Like  An- 
geline, however,  flattering  himself,  by  using  expe- 
dition, he  should  succeed  in  obtaining  a  meeting 
with  him  ere  his  embarkation,  he  lost  no  lime  in 
proceeding  to  it,  impelled  alike  by  solicitude  for 
this,  and  anxiety  about  her.  But  here  again  dis- 
appointment awaited  him — disappointment  too  of 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  25? 

an  aggravated  nature  ;  for  from  what  he  heard,  he 
was  led  to  believe  she  had  embarked  with  him. 
He  was  led  into  the  error,  from  having  no  opportu- 
nity of  making  inquiries  concerning  her,  from  the 
only  person  who  had  the  power  of  answering  them, 
namely,  the  proprietor  of  the  house  where  she  had 
alighted,  owing  to  an  equally  sudden  and  dangerous 
illness  that  confined  her  at  the  moment  to  her  cham- 
ber, and  by  a  young  woman,  who  perfectly  answer- 
ed the  description  he  gave  of  her,  happening  to  have 
sailed  in  the  vessel,  apparently  under  the  protection 
of  St.  Ruth. 

Not  suffering  himself,  however,  to  doubt  it  was 
her  intention  to  return  with  him,  and  at  all  events, 
reflecting  that  whatever  this  might  be,  it  equally  be- 
hoved him  to  vindicate  her  fame,  he  lost  no  further 
time  in  departing  for  England.  He  arrived  at  the 
exact  period  in  which  the  discovery  he  had  to  make 
was  most  calculated  to  overwhelm  Miss  Ros- 
crea  with  confusion — at  the  very  moment  which, 
from  the  arrival  of  lord  Hexham,  malice  would 
have  chosen  for  the  purpose.  This  arrival  was 
owing  to  the  alarm  occasioned  by  the  vague  infor- 
mation of  the  marquis  concerning  Angeline  ;  he 
came  with  a  determination  of  ascertaining  to  what 
her  disappearance  from  Rooksdale  was  owing  ;  but 
had  not  time  to  enter  on  the  subject  ere  Ros- 
crea  was  announced.  The  agitation  excited  by 
his  unexpected  appearance  was  not  diminished  by 
an  apprehension  of  the  consequences  that  might 
result  from  this  meeting  between  him  and  lord  Hex- 
ham,  a  dread  the  indignant  glances  of  the  latter  con- 
tributed to  heighten  ;  they  were  perceived  by  Ros- 
crea;  and  his  consequent  reflection  of  what  he  should 
have  continued  to  suffer,  in  the  estimation  of  those 

VOL.  II.  Z 


258  MONASTERY  OF   ST.  COLUMB. 

he  regarded,  through  the  conduct  of  lady  Rosa- 
mond,'but  for  the  recent  explanation,  augmented 
the  resentment  it  had  excitecl 

With  a  proud  expression  of  this  feeling,  he  en- 
tered upon  the  particulars  he  had  to  give. 
The  mingled  sensation  they  excited  may  easier  be 
conceived  than  described.  Miss  Roscrea  at  length 
began  to  tremble — at  length  to  fear  the  contempt 
she  had  been  so  long  provoking,  was  about  over- 
taking her :  more  than  once  she  felt  impelled  to 
rush  from  the  room,  but  was  still  detained  in  it,  by 
the  conscious  guilt  such  a  procedure  would  betray ; 
yet  not  without  difficulty  could  she  resist  the  im- 
pulse that  urged  her  to  do  so,  so  terrible  to  her 
were  the  wrathful  glances  directed  towards  her  by 
the  indignant  Hexham,  as  Hoscrea  proceeded,  the 
expression  she  read  in  the  countenances  of  all  pre- 
sent. Roscrea  concluded  his  statement  by  ad- 
dressing her — *  Unhappy  woman/  he  said,  '  not- 
withstanding the  juet  cause  I  have  to  reproach 
you,  both  on  my  own  account,  and  that  of  another 
person,  yet  I  cannot  reflect  on  what  you  must  suf- 
fer, from  your  conscious  degradation,  without  a 
feeling  of  commiseration — a  feeling  that  induces 
me  to  assure  you,  should  your  subsequent  conduct 
evince  contrition  for  the  past,  your  dependence  on 
me,  through  your  father's  wish,  shall  not  be  render- 
ed an  unhappy  one/ 

Miss  Roscrea  could  no  longer  command  herself 
at  this  humiliating  assurance ;  bursting  into  a  tor- 
rent of  invective,  she  accused  him  of  duplicity 
and  falsehood,  and  darting  a  scornful  glance  round 
the  apartment,  hastened  from  it ;  and  commenting 
immediate  preparations  for  her  departure,  was 
some  way  from  the  Abbey  in  the  course  of  another 
hour. 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  259 

Not  entirely,  however,  to  the  confusion  of  de- 
tected guilt  was  the  precipitancy  of  her  departure 
owing ;  a  stranger  to  all  delicacy  of  feeling,  she  no 
sooner  beheld  the  complete  annihilation  of  her 
hopes,  relative  to  lord  Hexham,  than  she  decided 
on  an  immediate  return  to  Ireland,  in  hopes  of  pre- 
venting, by  such  a  measure,  any  injury  being  done 
her  in  the  estimation  of  colonel  Dunsaney  ;  but  in 
entertaining  such,  she  wronged  the  integrity  of  Ros- 
crea;  he  would  have  considered  himself  highly  cul- 
pable, had  he  allowed  him  to  remain  ignorant  of  the 
little  claim  she  had  to  esteem,  and  accordingly,  ere 
he  departed  from  the  metropolis,  sought  a  meeting 
with  him,  for  the  express  purpose  of  entering  into 
a  full  explanation  with  him,  on  the  subject  of  recent 
occurrences.  To  decide  whether  Dunsaney  was 
most  affected  by  the  nobleness  of  mind  that  dic- 
tated the  disclosure,  or  joy  at  his  unexpected  re- 
lease from  an  engagement  he  had  long  repented, 
would  be  impossible.  Yet  was  this  joy  not  un- 
chastened ;  he  could  not  think  of  the  circumstance 
to  which  his  restoration  to  liberty  was  owing,  with- 
out a  mingled  sensation,  from  the  unhappiness  he 
was  aware  it  must  have  occasioned  to  the  proudly- 
susceptible  heart  of  Roscrea. 

On  parting,  however,  every  other  feeling,  for  a 
while,  gave  way  to  rapture,  at  the  idea  of  the  meet- 
ing he  now  looked  forward  to,  with  the  interesting 
object  of  his  real  regard  ;  his  impatience  for  it  was 
too  great  not  to  induce  him  to  hasten  back  to  Grey- 
mount  ;  and  the  result  of  it  rendered  him  one  of 
the  happiest  of  men. 

*f. be  merry  bells  had  just  announced  the  celebra- 
tion of  his  nuptials,  as  Miss  Roscrea,  nearly  ex- 
hausted with  fatigue  and  apprehension,  alighted  at 
the  house  of  her  friend,  Mrs.  Ogle,  in  the  neigh- 


260  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

bourhood,  now  on  the  eve  of  matrimony  with  her 
ci-devant  lover,  O'Roon,  the  arrangement  of  his 
affairs,  through  the  scrupulous  honour  and  kindness 
of  Roscrea,  having  removed  the  only  obstacle  to 
his  wishes,  A  suspicion  of  having  the  power  of 
inflicting  mortification  on  her,  by  the  intelligence 
she  had  to  announce,  rendered  Mrs.  Ogle  quite  as 
delighted  to  see  her,  as  if  the  professions  of  re- 
gard she  had  so  often  made  to  her  were  sincere r 

Miss  Roscrea  placed  too  little  dependence  on 
these,  to  have  been  induced  by  any  thing,  but  be- 
ing absolutely  at  a  loss,  at  the  moment,  for  another 
residence  equally  agreeable  to  go  to,  to  have  repair- 
ed to  hers;  but  after  what  had  occurred  in  the  re- 
cent meeting  with  Roscrea,  she  could  not  possibly 
think  of  proceeding  to  a  house  of  his;  and  was  pre* 
vented,  by  her  knowledge  of  the  colonel's  rigid 
sense  of  propriety,  from  going  to  Creymount,  with- 
out a  previous  announcement  of  her  return  to  the 
kingdom. 

Mrs.  Ogle  having  ascertained  her  being  totally 
unsuspicious  of  the  event  that  had  just  taken  place 
there  being  even  in  contemplation,  lost  no  time  in 
intimating  it  to  her. — '  Well/  she  began,  <  from 
your  resignation  of  your  old  conquest,  1  suppose  I 
have  to  congratulate  you  on  a  still  more  important 
one.  After  so  long  giving  the  poor  colonel  the 
lover's  staff,  Hope,  to  lean  upon,  1  presume  you 
would  not  have  discarded  him,  had  not  the  posses- 
sion of  your  heart  been  disputed  by  some  more  in- 
teresting competitor  ?' 

'  Psha,  nonsense !'  returned  Miss  Roscrea:  'how 
can  you  suppose  1  could  possibly  think  of  acflng 
in  such  a  manner  ?  that  after  matters  had  proceeded 
so  far  between  us,  I  could  possibly  think  myself  at 
liberty  to  receive  the  addresses  of  any  other  per- 
son ?' 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  26i 

<  Indeed,  then,  if  you  are  serious,  the  colonel 
must  incur  an  imputation  1  thought  he  never  could 

have   merited,  for- but  really,  after  what  you 

have  just  said,  i  scarcely  know  how  to  proceed, 
lest  of  affecting  you  too  much, 

'  Oh,  don't  let  any  apprehension  of  that  occa- 
sion you  to  hesitate, '  said  Miss  Roscrea ;  '  for  I 
trust/  she  added,  but  with  a  change  of  countenance 
that  excited  a  doubt  to  the  contrary, (  1  have  phi- 
Josophy  enough  to  bear  with  fortitude  any  thing 
you  can  tell  me/ 

'  Well,  1  hope  so/  cried  her  companion,  with  a 
smile  of  malicious  anticipation;  '  and  not  to  keep 
you  any  longer  in  suspense,  know  then,  that  the 
merry  peal  you  now  hear  is  in  honour  of  the  nuptials 
of  your  false  swain,  and  the  friend  of  his  aunt ; 
this  morning  witnessed  the  ratification  of  their 
mutual  vows/ 

Adept  as  was  Miss  Roscrea  in  the  art  of  dissem- 
bling, she  was,  in  the  present  instance,  too  com- 
pletely taken  by  surprise,  too  deeply  concerned  in 
what  she  heard,  to  be  able  to  maintain  that  com- 
mand over  herself,  essential  for  the  purpose  of  de- 
ception ;  rage  and  despair  took  possession  of  her 
soul  at  the  information  of  Mrs.  Ogle  ;  every  flat- 
tering prospect  was  annihilated  by  it;  and  the 
humiliating  sensations  it  occasioned,  aggravated  by 
the  confession  she  had  been  betrayed  into  making. 
The  motive  for  this  was  too  obvious  to  allow  of  any 
longer  disguise  towards  Mrs.  Ogle;  she  burst  into 
invective  against  her,  upbraided  her  with  insinceri- 
ty, and,  in  a  paroxysm  of  indignation,  ordering  a 
chaise  from  a  neighbouring  inn,  immediately  quit- 
led  her  dwelling.  Her  course  was  bent  to  town  ; 
but  she  had  nearly  reached  it,  ere  her  mind  was 
made  up  as  to  that  she  should  pursue  on  arriving 
z  2 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

there:  at  length  the  conviction  of  something  to 
her  prejudice  having  transpired,  for  to  no  other 
circumstance  could  she  ascribe  the  conduct  of  the 
colonel,  induced  her  to  decide  on  betaking  herself 
to  another  kingdom.  Spain  was  the  one  she  fixed 
on,  in  consequence  of  having  relatives  there, 
although  its  distracted  state  might  well  have  deter- 
red her  from  a  thought  of  repairing  to  it ;  but  to  her 
haughty  spirit,  nothing  was  so  terrible  as  the  idea 
of  remaining  where  she  had  experienced  such  hu- 
miliation, and,  in  consequence,  apprehended  still 
greater.  She  had  soon  an  opportunity  of  carrying 
her  resolve  into  effect,  and  which  relieving  us  from 
all  further  necessity  of  mentioning  her,  we  shall 
now  bid  her  a  final  farewell,  persuaded  that  the 
most  rigid  must  be  sufficiently  satisfied  with  the  se- 
vere punishment  previously  inflicted  on  her,  by  the 
detection  of  her  perfidy,  to  be  prevented  having 
any  desire  to  ascertain  whether  any  further  befel 
her. 

But  the  mischief  she  had  effected  was  not  im- 
mediately repaired.  Although  Roscrea  quickly 
perceived  himself  re-established  in  the  esteem  of 
his  friends  at  the  Abbey  >  yet  neither  this,  nor  yet 
the  regret  it  implied,  for  the  injustice  they  had 
been  betrayed  into  doing  him,  had  the  effect  of 
subduing  his  resentment  towards  lady  Rosamond  ; 
he  could  not  prevail  on  himself  readily  to  forgive 
her  unjustifiable  suspicion,  the  consequences  to 
which  it  had  led,  the  unhappiness  it  had  been  in- 
strumental to  occasioning  Angeline,  and  the  dan- 
gers to  which  it  had  perhaps  been  the  means  of  ex- 
posing her.  In  consequence,  he  firmly  resisted 
the  entreaties  to  which  the  marquis  and  marchion- 
ess had  recourse,  for  the  purpose  of  endeavouring 
to  prevail  on  him  to  prolong  his  visit,  on  hearing 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  263 

him  announce  his  intention  of  directly  departing 
from  the  Abbey :  but  in  his  resolution  to  do  so,  he 
nearly  faltered,  when  at  the  moment  of  taking 
leave,  he  encountered  the  eyes  of  lady  Rosamond, 
whom  pride  prevented  from  uniting  in  the  suppli- 
cations of  the  rest  of  the  family,  swimming  in  tears, 
and  the  next  instant,  in  stooping  to  kiss  the  soft 
cheek  of  his  infant  son,  as  he  lay  slumbering  on  a 
couch,  felt  upon  them  those  tears.  Had  he  obey- 
ed the  impulse  of  his  heart,  he  would  instantly 
have  clasped  the  lovely  and  equally  beloved 
mourner  to  it;  but  he  was  enabled  to  resist  his 
feelings,  from  the  reflection  of  the  salutary  effect 
which  a  little  longer  keeping  up  the  appearance  of 
resentment  might  have,  justly  conceiving  that  the 
more  acutely  she  now  suffered  from  the  doubts  she 
had  yielded  to,  the  less  probability  there  would  be 
of  her  ever  giving  way  to  similar  ones  again. 

Not  less  did  lord  Hexham  resent  her  conduct 
relative  to  Angeline;  yet  when  he  reflected  on  his 
own,  he  felt  he  could  not,  with  any  degree  of  jus- 
tice, give  utterance  to  the  reproaches  his  resent- 
ment at  it  excited. 

What  he  felt  at  the  development  of  the  arts 
that  had  led  to  this,  at  finding  she  was  all  that  he 
had  originally  imagined,  may  easier  be  conceived 
than  described.  Yet  was  his  rapture  not  unchas- 
tened  :  the  tumult  of  his  spirits  a  little  subsided, 
and  the  reflection  of  the  disclosure  he  had  to  make, 
or  rather  what  he  had  to  apprehend  from  it,  threw 
a  sudden  damp  upon  .them.  From  what  had  oc- 
curred, he  saw  it  would  be  impossible  to  conceal 
their  marriage  having  already  taken  place,  as  he 
had  originally  intended,  and  could  not,  without  the 
most  painful  emotion,  think  of  the  light  in  which 
his  consequently  revealed  breach  of  promise  must 


264  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

occasion  him  to  be  regarded  by  his  father.  At  the 
idea  of  the  indignation,  suil  more  dreadful,  more 
humiliating,  the  contempt  it  could  not  fail  of  ex- 
citing, he  was  but  too  well  aware,  his  cheek  glowed 
with  the  burning  blush  of  shame ;  and  could  the 
past  have  been  recalled,  he  felt  persuaded  that  no- 
thing earthly  could  have  induced  him  to  forfeit 
that  ennobling  consciousness  of  proud  integrity, 
which  he  had  lost  by  hearkening  to  the  voice  of 
passion. 

When  he  reflected,  but  for  this,  how  very  dif- 
ferent his  feelings  at  this  juncture  would  have  been, 
how  bitter  were  his  regrets,  for  having  allowed 
himself  to  yield  to  its  suggestions  !  and  how  forcibly 
was  he  convinced  of  the  impossibility  of  avoiding 
regret  for  a  deviation  from  rectitude  ! 

So  humiliating  were  the  consequences  he  antici- 
pated from  the  avowal,  as  at  length,  after  a  little 
deliberation,  to  be  induced  to  decide  on  remaining 
silent  on  the  subject,  till  compelled  to  explicitness 
by  the  return  of  Angeline,  partly  from  the  natural 
propensity  we  all  have  to  put  off  an  hour  we  dread 
as  long  as  possible,  and  partly,  perhaps,  from  a 
fond  persuasion,  that  she  could  not  actually  be 
seen  without  his  offence  in  some  degree  being 
deemed  excusable. 

Like  the  rest  of  her  friends,  he  concluded  terror 
had  induced  her  to  embark  with  St.  Ruth,  and,  of 
course,  looked  forward  to  her  returning  with  him. 
When  he  thought  of  all  she  had  recently  gone 
through — the  conflicts  she  must  have  experienced 
— the  dangers  to  which  she  had  been  exposed — 
the  anguish  which  even  then  there  was  every  rea- 
son to  suppose  her  enduring,  how  alternately  did 
his  soul  melt  with  tenderness,  and  tremble  with  in- 
dignation— how  alternately  did  he  reproach  himself 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  205 

and  others — and  how  ardently,  how  passionately 
did  he  long  for  the  moment  of  again  meeting — the 
ecstatic  moment  which  should  give  to  him  the 
rapture  of  again  enfolding  her  to  his  heart,  and 
reading  in  her  dear  eyes  the  sweet  assurance  of 
forgiveness  and  continued  love  ! 

The  marquis  took  upon  himself  to  reveal  to 
Clanronel  the  communication  of  Roscrea,  not,  how- 
ever, without  something  like  a  sensation  of  dismay, 
from  the  heightened  regret  with  which  he  feared 
it  would  make  him  view  his  recent  conduct .  The 
result  proved  he  had  not  yielded  to  a  groundless 
apprehension.  The  joy,  the  gratitude  of  Clanro- 
nel, at  the  vindication  of  his  child's  innocence,  may 
easily  be  conceived  ;  but  to  form  an  adequate  idea 
of  what  he  endured,  at  the  sudden  reflection  of 
having  acted  in  a  manner  to  probably  prevent  her 
finding  her  paternal  home  any  longer  a  happy  one, 
would  perhaps  be  a  more  difficult  matter. 

In  anguish  of  soul,  in  bitterness  of  spirit  at  the 
idea,  he  covered  his  face  with  his  hands,  and  throw- 
ing himself  upon  a  seat — {  Oh  God !'  he  groaned, 
'  how  do  1  suffer  for  the  act  into  which  passion 
hurried  me !  but  I  confess  myself  properly  punish- 
ed by  the  misery  it  infliets :  the  voice  of  vindic- 
tive resentment  is  one  that  never  should  be  heark- 
ened to.  Had  1  controlled  the  wild  transports  of 
indignation,  I  should  not  now  experience  the 
wretchedness  1  do,  because  I  should  not  then  have 
been  betrayed  into  any  measure  I  could  have  re- 
gretted. Oh  !  how  excruciating  is  the  idea,  that 
through  my  means,  my  unhappy  child  may  still  be 
denied  the  repose  and  rest  she  so  much  requires — 
may  be  doomed  to  consider  herself  an  unwelcome 
inmate  in  her  own  real  home.' 

'  My  dearest  friend/  said  the  marquis,  eagerly 


266  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

grasping  his  hand,  '  endeavour  to  compose  your- 
self ;  allow  not  your  feelings  to  obtain  such  a  mas- 
tery over  you.  What  you  intimate  a  fear  of,  may 
not  prove  the  case  ;  or  rather,  you  may  be  pre- 
vented having  any  opportunity  of  ascertaining 
whether  it  was  likely  to  do  so,  by  the  speedy  ce- 
lebration of  that  event  we  have  both  been  so  anx- 
ious for.  Miss  Clanronel's  return  may  soon  be 
expected  ;  and,  in  consequence,  ere  long,  I  confi- 
dently look  forward  to  the  happiness  of  also  em- 
bracing her  as  a  daughter/ 

'  Heaven  grant  {'emphatically  added  his  agitated 
friend ;  to  see  her  united  to  lord  Hexham,  secure 
of  the  tenderness,  the  protection  of  such  a  family 
as  yours,  would  be  indeed  to  relieve  my  heart  of 
an  oppressive  burthen  on  her  account ;  but  on  my 
own,  nothing  can  again  ever  render  me  happy.  I 
loath  the  very  idea  of  the  connexion  I  have  form- 
ed ;  and,  in  consequence,  feel  that  1  have  entailed 
perpetual  disgust  and  regret  upon  myself.  I  see 
you  are  inclined  to  argue  on  the  subject  with  me; 
but  my  present  feelings  are  not  to  be  subdued ; 
they  are  of  such  a  nature  as  to  make  me  consider 
myself,  with  regard  so  happiness,  something  in  the 
light  of  a  captive  wretch,  who,  in  his  dungeon,  be- 
holds gleams  of  sunshine,  without  a  hope  of  ever 
being  allowed  a  full  participation  of  its  blessings/ 

'  This  is  being  gloomy  indeed/  said  the  marquis ; 
(  but  I  do  not  despair  of  yet  hearing  you  converse 
in  a  very  different  strain ;  when  you  reflect  that 
you  have  nothing  in  reality  to  accuse  yourself  of,  I 
must  hope  and  believe  that  your  cheerfulness  will 
be  recovered/ 

•'  Nothing  to  accuse  myself  of !'  cried  Clanronel ; 
'  oh  that  1  could  unite  with  you  in  thinking  so  !  but 
'tis  the  part  of  a  friend  to  hope;  admonition  comes 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

too  late,  to  endeavour  to  sooth  the  anguish  it  might 
have  prevented/ 

The  marquis  tried  to  encourage  the  hope  he 
had  avowed ;  but  the  deepening  melancholy  of  his 
unhappy  friend  gradually  destroyed  it.  With  the 
most  acute  sensations,  he  beheld  him  shrinking 
from  society,  and  abandoning  himself  to  useless  re- 
grets; he  endeavoured  to  prevent  his  sinking  into 
gloom,  but  his  efforts  for  the  purpose  proved  una- 
vailing; and  greatly  he  fe&red,  should  the  restora- 
tion of  his  daughter  be  long  delayed,  he  would  be 
for  ever  lost  to  the  social  circle. 

Lord  Hexham  uniting  in  this  fear,  became,  in 
consequence,  still  more  solicitous,  if  possible,  for 
her  return  ;  but  he  had  soon  an  additional  cause  of 
uneasiness;  contrary  to  his  expectations,  the  ex- 
change which,  through  the  machinations  practised 
against  his  peace,  he  had  been  tempted  to  decide 
on,  was  effected  just  at  this  juncture,  and  in  con- 
sequence of  which  he  beheld  a  probability  of  be- 
ing disappointed  of  the  meeting  he  had  so  fondly 
anticipated.  His  regret  at  the  circumstance  was 
heightened  by  the  unhappiness  it  occasioned  his 
family ;  he  sighed  to  think  he  should  be  such  a 
perpetual  source  of  inquietude  to  them ;  but  in  the 
present  instance  they  could  not  condemn  the  feel- 
ings that  had  caused  him  to  be  so,  and  tried  to  re- 
concile themselves  to  what  had  happened,  by  a 
hope  that  what  they  apprehended  might  not  take 
place.  The  regiment  to  which  he  was  gazetted 
was  quartered  in  another  part  of  the  kingdom,  and 
to  which  he  was  shortly  under  a  necessity  of  re- 
pairing ;  but  he  trusted  he  should  soon  obtain  leave 
of  absence.  He  departed  without  being  able  to 
summon  courage  to  disclose  the  secret  so  long  con- 
fined in  his  breast,  so  terrible  to  his  imagination 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

was  the  idea,  so  overwhelming  the  thought,  of  les- 
sening himself  in  the  esteem  of  his  father — of 
losing,  even  for  a  moment,  his  regard  and  confi- 
dence. He  had  been  about  a  fortnight  with  his 
Tegiment,  when  hope  and  happiness  were  annihi- 
lated, by  meeting  in  a  paper,  over  which  his  eye 
•was  carelessly  wandering,  with  an  account  of  the 
toss  of  the  vessel  in  which  it  was  supposed  Ange- 
line  had  embarked ;  all,  for  some  hours  after  its  pe- 
rusal, was  distraction  iri  his  soul ;  locked  up  in  his 
chamber,  there  was  nothing  to  check,  nothing  to 
prevent  the  wild  ravings  of  despair ;  remote  from 
every  relative — no  sympathizing  friend  at  hand, 
with  kind,  though  to  the  tortured  mourner  unwel- 
come, officiousness  to  break  in  upon  his  sorrows, 
grief  had  here  its  full  indulgence  :  to  its  first  tran- 
sports a  gloomy  sadness  gradually  succeeded ;  he 
apostrophized  her  whom  he  believed  no  longer  an 
inhabitant  of  this  sublunary  scene — he  vowed  per- 
petual constancy  to  her  memory,  and  fervently 
prayed,  ere  long,  his  spirit  might  be  allowed  to 
mingle  with  hers  in  endless  bliss. 

1  he  submission  due  to  the  will  of  Heaven  might 
have  induced  him  to  struggle  with  his  feelings,  but 
for  the  cruel  reflection  of  his  conduct  towards  her  : 
the  idea  of  its  being  now  beyond  his  power  to 
make  any  atonement  for  it,  totally  subdued  him. 
Desolate  and  forlorn,  truly  widowed  indeed,  did 
he  feel  at  the  thought,  did  he  feel  at  the  relinquish- 
ment  of  all  the  fond,  the  flattering  hopes  he  had 
lately  indulged  in.  What  he  had  recently  dreaded, 
he  now  fervently  hoped  might  be  the  case,  name- 
ly, his  regiment  being  ordered  on  foreign  service ; 
this  was  a  wish  which,  even  sooner  than  he  expect- 
ed, was  gratified ;  at  the  very  moment  of  its  utter- 
ance, the  route  for  Spain  was  about  being  received. 


MO-NASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

To  reveal  his  marriage  he  now  deemed  unnecessa- 
ry; and,  in  consequence,  finally  decided  on  its 
lasting  concealment ;  yet  not  so  much,  hje  tried  to 
persuade  himself,  for  the  purpose  of  avoiding  the 
humiliation  it  must  still  subject  him  to,  as  of  saving 
the  marquis  and  marchioness  the  additional  pang  of 
deeming  him  unworthy  of  their  confidence  and  af- 
fection. On  many  accounts,  he  now  dreaded  a 
meeting  with  any  of  his  family,  and  accordingly 
exerted  himself  to  prevent  it  ;  in  his  efforts  for  the 
purpose  he  succeeded.  Tempted  by  the  manner 
in  which  he  wrote,  to  believe  he  would  be  able  to 
pay  a  farewell  visit  at  the  Abbey,  the  marquis  and 
lord  George  did  not  think  of  setting  out  for  Ports- 
mouth till  too  late;  but  no  personal  concerns  for  an 
instant  interrupted  the  attentions  of  the  former  to 
his  sorrowing  friend. 

Through  means  of  one  of  the  public  prints,  the 
family  of  St  Cuthbert's  had  also  obtained  informa- 
tion of  the  foundering  of  the  vessel  in  which  Ange- 
line  was  supposed  to  be  a  passenger.  As  soon  as 
the  marquis  had  a  little  recovered  from  the  shock 
imparted  by  the  tidings,  he  hastened  to  Roeksdale, 
in  hopes  of  preventing  a  similar  one  there  ;  but  he 
arrived  too  late  for  the  purpose ;  the  same  post  had 
brought  the  same  paper  there,  and,  with  it  still 
grasped  in  his  hand,  he  found  the  unhappy  father 
in  a  state  of  insensibility .  Involuntarily  he  aided 
in  recovering  him ;  yet  he  scarcely  knew  how  to 
wish  for  it — how  for  the  prolongation  of  an  exist- 
ence, on  which  he  beheld  such  hopeless  wretched- 
ness entailed,  Too  dear,  however,  to  his  regard 
was  the  friend  of  his  adoption,  to  permit  him  to  en- 
dure with  calmness  the  prospect  he  speedily  beheld 
of  losing  him ;  although  convinced,  from  what  had 
happened,  his  exchanging  this  life  for  the  next 

VOL.  n,  A  a 


*270  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

must  be  a  happiness.  Beside  his  restless  couch  he 
took  his  almost  constant  station — that  couch  from 
which  he  was  soon  incapacitated  from  rising,  by 
the  effects  of  grief.  His  strength  gradually  de- 
clined, and  at  the  period  of  Angeline's  arrival  in 
the  neighbourhood,  but  very  little  hopes  were  en- 
tertained of  his  recovery.  Had  his  lady,  in  other 
instances,  exhibited  as  much  philosophy  as  she 
did  in  this,  she  might  have  been  considered  some- 
thing of  a  dignified  character.  If  she  betrayed 
any  thing  like  impatience  or  anxiety,  it  was  only 
when  the  physicians  now  and  then  wavered  a  little 
in  their  opinion :  in  short,  the  idea  of  the  pleasures 
she  should  have  the  power  of  enjoying  as  his  widow, 
so  perfectly  reconciled  her  to  the  thoughts  of  be- 
coming so,  as  to  prevent  her  experiencing  any  re- 
gret at  the  prospect  of  the  event  that  would  free 
her.  Equally  influenced  by  personal  considera- 
tions, her  family  were  nearly  as  impatient  for  it : 
they  had  accompanied  her  from  Bath,  and  were 
by  this  time  so  completely  tired  of  Rooksdale,  that 
nothing  but  the  freedom  they  there  enjoyed  from 
expence,  could  possibly  have  induced  them  to  re- 
main another  hour  within  it ;  this  they  flattered 
themselves  with  still  enjoying  with  her,  with  every 
opportunity  besides,  they  could  possibly  desire, 
of  partaking  of  the  amusements  they  delighted  in, 
was  she  released  from  her  present  bondage;  and 
accordingly  could  not  avoid  wishing  the  period  of 
her  emancipation  might  be  near. 

Aware,  however,  of  the  disgust  which  the  mani- 
festation of  such  a  wish  would  excite,  they  tried 
to  assume  the  semblance  of  feelings  very  different 
to  their  real  ones ;  but  their  efforts  at  deception, 
were  unavailing ;  those  they  most  wished  to  de- 
ceive, namely,  the  family  at  St.  Cuthbert's,  were 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  27  1 

those  they  were  least  qualified  to  impose  on ;  and 
but  for  his  conviction  of  the  fidelity  of  his  friend's 
domestics,  the  marquis  would  have  feared,  from  his 
insight  into  their  characters,  to  have  quitted  him 
for  a  moment. 


CHAP.  XIX. 

Alas  !  where  am  I  ? 

Methinks  I  read  distraction  in  your  face  : 
You  shake  and  tremble  too ;  your  blood  runs  cold ; 
Heavens  guard  my  love!  OTVFAY. 

ANGELINE  awaited  the  return  of  her  messenger 
with  trembling  anxiety ;  too  much  depended  on 
the  result  of  her  application,  to  permit  her  to  en- 
joy a  moment's  repose  while  in  a  state  of  suspense 
concerning  it.  At  length  he  returned  with  the 
following  answer : — 

'  To  Mrs.  Villiers. 

*  MADAM, 

'  The  illness  of  Mr.  Clanronel  inca- 
pacitating him  from  any  immediate  attention  to 
business,  I  have  been  deputed  by  him  to  express 
the  astonishment  he  feels  at  your  conduct,  in  re- 
turning to  a  neighbourhood  where  it  has  already 
given  such  room  for  speculation  ;  and  to  assure 
you,  that  should  you  not  immediately  quit  it,  he 
will  not  have  any  hesitation  in  having  recourse  to 
unpleasant  measures  for  compelling  you  to  do  so, 
as  he  cannot  submit  to  the  thought  of  having  his 
domestic  peace,  now  an  object  of  greater  impor- 
tance than  ever  to  him,  from  (he  connexion  he  has 
recently  formed,  again  interrupted,  through  your 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COI/UMB. 

ah  wort  hi  ness.  Having  voluntarily  withdrawn  your- 
self from  his  protection,  nothing,  he  declares,  shall 
again  induce  him  to  extend  it  to  you,  or  consider 
you  in  any  other  light  than  that  of  an  enemy  to  his 
repose.  Perhaps,  however,  by  a  prompt  obedi- 
ence in  the  present  instance  to  his  will,  he  may 
hereafter  be  brought  a  little  to  relent.  Sincerely 
wishing  this  may  be  case,  I  remain,  madam,  with 
regret  at  your  having  done  any  thing  to  offend  so 
good  a  father, 

'  Your  obedient  servant, 

1  M.  CLANRONEL. 
'  Rooksdale,  January* 

Several  minutes  elapsed  ere  Angeline  in  any 
degree  recovered  from  the  shock  imparted  to 
her  feelings  by  this  cruel  fabrication ;  for  that 
it  was  a  fabrication,  must  at  once  be  obvious  to 
the  reader,  from  what  has  been  previously  stated. 
Its  effect  upon  her  convinced  her  she  had 
given  greater  latitude  to  hope  than  she  was  at 
first  aware  of,  else  her  disappointment  could  not 
have  been  of  so  overwhelming  a  nature.  Good 
God !  and  was  she  abandoned  of  her  father  ?  Was 
she  literally  a  houseless  wanderer  ?  Was  she  desti- 
tute, at  the  moment,  of  a  friend  to  look  to  ?  How 
did  her  bosom  swell  with  anguish  at  the  thought — 
how  did  the  tears  course  one  another  down  her  pale 
cheeks — how,  in  agony,  did  she  raise  her  trembling 
hands  to  Heaven,  to  implore  that  of  its  protection 
she  might  still  at  least  continue  to  be  assured !  Con- 
vinced that  any  further  application  to  her  father, 
without  the  interference  of  some  friend,  would  be 
unavailing,  she  suddenly  determined  on  endeavour- 
ing to  obtain  lord  Hexham's,  and  which,  from  the 
confidence  previously  reposed  in  him,  she  conceiv- 
ed she  had  some  little  right  to  solicit;  but  as  she 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  273 

might  not  be  able  to  see  him  immediately,  slie  con- 
ceived it  absolutely  necessary  to  depart  directly 
from  the  place  where  she  then  was,  lest  her  ap- 
pearing to  act  contrary  to  the  wishes  of  her  father, 
as  by  remaining  there  would,  she  concluded,  be  the 
case,  should  have  the  effect  of  exasperating  him 
still  more  against  her.  But  whither  to  betake  her- 
self, she  knew  not — where  to  seek  for  a  dwelling 
sufficiently  obscure  to  prevent  his  ascertaining  her 
lingering  in  the  neighbourhood.  At  length  the  so- 
litary cottage  of  a  poor  woman,  whom  she  had 
greatly  befriended,  occurred  to  her  recollection, 
and  thither  she  resolved  to  bend  her  steps,  in  hopes 
of  there  procuring  a  temporary  asylum,  such  as 
she  required.  To  prevent  being  traced,  however, 
she  deemed  some  little  precaution  necessary,  and 
accordingly  again  entered  the  chaise  which  had 
brought  her  hither,  and  which,  having  come  but 
half  a  stage,  still  waited  for  her.  Having  proceed- 
ed another  mile,  she  again  alighted  from  it,  and  di- 
recting the  postillion  to  proceed  to  a  village  a  little 
further  on,  struck  herself  into  a  bye-road,  leading 
to  the  dwelling  of  dame  Goodman,  situated  on  a 
little  common,  bounded,  at  the  side  on  which  it 
stood,  by  the  park-paling  of  Rooksdale;  she  be- 
lieved it  about  a  mile  distant,  and  had  she  taken 
the  direct  road,  would  not  have  found  it  more ;  but 
through  the  agitation  of  her  mind,  she  took  the 
wrong  one,  and,  in  consequence,  shortly  began  to 
think  the  distance  interminable,  or  as  poor  Imogene 
says — '  That  foundations  fly  from  the  unhappy.1 
The  heaviness  of  the  road,  and  extreme  fatigue 
she  had  lately  undergone,  rendered  it  indeed  an 
exhausting  effort  to  proceed — an  effort  rendered 
still  more  painful,  by  the  chilling  sensations  excited 
by  the  bleak  aspect  of  all  around,  the  mournful 
A  a  2 


274  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

sighing  of  the  wintry  wind  through  the  leafless 
trees ;  all  seemed  indeed  as  changed  from  what  it  had 
lately  been  as  her  own  prospects — '  But  the  return 
of  the  genial  season  will  restore  these  to  their  prime- 
val beauty !'  she  exclaimed,  (  but  the  dreariness  of 
mine,  alas!  1  have  no  certain  hope -of  seeing  re- 
moved. Seasons  may  return  and  pass  away,  per- 
haps without  any  alteration  being  effected  in  them, 
their  forlornness  being  reversed,  their  darkness  dis- 
sipated.' At  length  she  found  herself  at  the  ter- 
mination of  the  road,  but  without  perceiving  the 
dwelling  she  sought.  It  was  now  evident  that  she 
had  either  mistaken  the  way,  or  else  that  the  cot- 
tage was  pulled  down,  and  her  uncertainty  of  which 
being  the  case  rendered  her  irresolute  what  to  do. 
Something,  however,  she  saw  she  must  quickly  de- 
cide on,  the  approach  of  darkness  being  already 
announced  by  the  gloom  of  closing  day;  faint, 
weary,  wildered,  she  leant  for  a  minute  against  the 
park-  paling,  and  as  tears  gushed  from  her  at  the 
forlornness  of  her  situation,  she  could  almost  have 
fancied  she  read  compassion  in  the  innocent  faces 
of  the  deer,  that  seemed  staring  at  her  from  within 
it ;  and  that  the  tall  trees,  as  swayed  to  and  fro  by 
the  wind,  were  inviting  her  to  the  shelter  of  their 
shades — (  But,  ah  !  did  1  seek  it/  she  cried,  '  i 
should  not  be  allowed  to  retain  it — for  me  there's 
no  longer  a  shelter  within  these  rustling  woods — 
for  me  no  longer  a  resting  place  in  the  house  of  my 
father — for  me  no  present  home  !.  Yet,  oh  Heavens  ! 
did  he  know  exactly  what  1  am  now  suffering — did 
he  know  that,  like  a  wretched  outcast,  1  stand 
tremblingly  gazing  on  the  dwelling  from  which  he 
has  banished  me,  would  not  his  heart  soften  to  com- 
passion— his  arms  be  again  opened  to  receive  me  ? 
Oh,  no  !  can  1  flatter  myself  that  such  would  be 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

the  case,  after  the  reception  my  letter  has  met 
with,  a  letter  so  explanatory  of  my  feelings,  so  de- 
scriptive of  my  desolate  situation  ?  To  another  are 
transferred  the  affections  I  once  possessed,  and 
much,  mqch  I  fear,  from  him  1  have  nothing  more  to 
hope/ 

An  approaching  step  making  her  withdraw  her 
clasped  hands  from  her  eyes,  against  which  they 
were  pressed  in  agony,  she  beheld  an  old  woodman 
tottering  towards  her,  beneath  a  weight  of  faggots  : 
conceiving  she  might  obtain  from  him  the  informa- 
tion she  required,  she  hastened  to  meet  him,  and 
had  the  satisfaction  of  learning  that  dame  Good- 
man's cottage  was  not  only  still  in  existence,  but 
very  little  further  off.  Observing  his  directions  of 
keeping  close  to  the  paling,  she  soon  found  herself 
at  it,  and,  tapping  at  the  door,  was  desired  to  come 
in.  Raising  the  latch,  she  beheld  the  old  dame  at 
her  wheel,  before  a  cheerful  wood  fire,  with  her 
grandchild,  a  little  girl  of  eight  years  old,  sitting 
reading  beside  her ;  not  hearing  any  one  speak,  she 
turned  to  see  who  had  entered,  and  hastily  rose  on 
perceiving  Angeline,  but  with  a  look  indicative  of 
her  conceiving  her  a  stranger. 

Angeline,  throwing  up  her  veil,  advanced  to  her, 
and  with  a  languid  smile,  but  one  of  ineffable  sweet- 
ness— '  I  am  sure  you  cannot  have  quite  forgot 
me  ?'  she  cried,  involuntarily  laying  her  fair  cold 
hand  upon  her  withered  one. 

'  Forgot  you !'  she  repeated ;  *  oh,  dear  heart, 
no,  to  be  sure ;  forgot  my  benefactress — the  pre- 
server of  me  and  mine  !  No,  no,  that  could  never 
be :  but  your  face  was  so  covered,  and  besides  I 
so  little  thought  it  could  be  you  1  saw,  in  such  a 
plight  that  I  did  not  directly  know  you  ' 

Angeline's  starting  tears  could  no  longer  be  re- 


276  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

strained — '  This  is  a  world  of  changes,'  she  said, 
in  a  voice  scarcely  articulate.  '  Of  my  having 
left  liooksdale  some  time  since,  you  know,  1  dare 
say ;  also,  perhaps,  of  my  having  been  so  unfortu- 
nate as  to  incur  the  displeasure  of  my  father.  A 
secret  marriage/  she  added,  deeming  it  requisite 
to  account  in  some  way  for  her  present  situation, 
'  has  been  the  cause ;  but  1  trust,  through  the  inter- 
ference of  a  friend,  to  whom  1  mean  to  apply,  I 
may  yet  be  restored  to  his  favour;  in  the  mean- 
while, I  wish  him  to  remain  in  ignorance  of  my 
being  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  accordingly  have 
come  hither,  convinced  I  might  safely  repose  con- 
fidence in  you;  and  that,  if  in  your  power,  you 
would  give  me  the  temporary  refuge  I  require/ 

'  Give  !'  cried  the  good  dame ;  '  yes,  and  with 
it  the  welcome  of  a  mo f her.  Oh,  my  dear  young 
lady,  you  have  at  once  made  me  sorry  and  glad ; 
sorry  that  you  should  have  met  with  any  thing  to 
trouble  you,  yet  glad  that  you  have  given  me  the 
power  of  serving  you — you  for  whose  happiness 
these  aged  knees,'  suddenly  throwing  herself  at 
her  feet,  and  clasping  her  arms  round  her,  '  have 
never  been  bent  in  supplication  to  the  throne  of 
Heaven,  since  the  experience  I  have  had  of  your 
goodness,  without  a  prayer  being  offered  up  for  it 
— you,  but  for  whom  I  arid  mine  would  now,  in  all 
likelihood,  have  been  poor  outcasts — but  for  you, 
my  poor  deluded  son,  when  tempted  to  enlist,  must 
have  been  torn  from  his  family—you,  through 
whose  bounty  a  substitute  was  provided  for  him, 
and  who  rested  not  till  you  had  seen  him  re- es- 
tablished in  his  little  farm,  and  every  thing  again 
smiling  round  him ;  and  after  this  kindness,  could 
you  doubt,  dear  lady,  being  welcome  to  my  poor 
hovel — being  welcome  to  my  poor  services  ?  Yet, 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  277 

©h !  sorely  it  grieves  me  that  you  should  need 
them  :  but  cheer  up,  sweet  lady ;  a  cloud  cannot 
long  rest  on  the  prospects  of  one  so  good,  so  feel- 
ing/ 

e  You  overrate  what  I  did  for  you,'  said  the 
deeply  affected  Angeline  ;  the  affluent  but  perform 
an  incumbent  duty  when  they  succour  the  distress- 
ed ;  yet  pleasing,  I  confess,  are  the  accents  of  gra- 
titude. Yes,  1  will,  as  you  advise,  endeavour  to 
hope ;  on  the  goodness  of  a  Benevolent  Being,  I 
will  rely  for  being  restored  to  happiness — a  being 
who,  I  now  clearly  perceive,  still  retributes  our 
every  action — '  Cast  thy  bread  upon  the  waters, 
and  thou  shalt  find  it  after  many  days/  says  the 
book  of  inspiration ;  and  how  graciously  has  that 
assurance  been  fulfilled  to  me  this  day,  when  be- 
neath the  roof  of  her  1  had  the  felicity  of  serving, 
1  have  found  so  ready  a  shelter.' 

Her  full  heart  a  little  relieved  by  the  tears  she 
shed,  she  soon  recovered  a  sufficient  degree  of 
composure  to  enable  her  to  make  every  arrange- 
ment she  deemed  requisite  for  remaining  where 
she  was  ;  a  person  on  whose  silence  she  could  de- 
pend was  dispatched  by  dame  Goodman  to  dis- 
charge the  chaise,  and  a  strict  injunction  of  secre- 
sy,  as  to  what  she  had  heard,  laid  upon  the  child, 
which  she  assured  Angeline  there  was  no  danger 
of  her  disregarding. 

Soothed  by  the  kindness  she  experienced,  and 
assured  of  being  in  a  place  where  she  had  nothing 
to  apprehend,  Angeline  soon  began  to  feel  herself 
in  a  state  of  comparative  tranquillity  ;  the  neatness 
of  the  place,  and  its  look  of  cheerfulness,  had  a 
happy  effect  on  her  spirits ;  the  grateful  warmth 
of  the  fire  diffused  a  kindly  glow  through  her  chill- 
ed frame ;  and  the  refreshment  of  which  her  host- 


278  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

ess  quickly  made  her  partake,  recruited  her  ex- 
hausted strength.  The  rising  of  the  wind,  and 
groaning  of  the  woods  in  the  savage  blast,  render- 
ed still  more  delectable  the  comforts  she  was  now 
enjoying  ;  still  as  the  casements  rattled  in  the 
storm,  arid  she  heard  the  hail  drifting  against  them, 
she  congratulated  herself  on  her  present  situation  : 
but,  alas  !  she  was  not  destined  to  experience  more 
than  a  gleam  of  cheerfulness  ;  leading  the  discourse 
gradually  to  the  family  at  the  Abbey,  she  at  length 
ventured  to  mention  lord  Hexham,  and,  to  her  in- 
expressible consternation,  heard  of  his  departure 
to  Spain :  involuntarily  she  raised  her  hands,  and 
clasped  them  in  agony,  on  hearing  it — '  Oh,  good 
God !'  she  exclaimed, '  to  what  successive  disap- 
pointments have  I  been  fated  !' 

The  strange  inquiring  look  of  her  companion 
made  her  almost  immediately  recollect  herself; 
but  she  had  said  too  much  not  to  deem  it  requisite 
to  say  more  ;  and  accordingly  she  frankly  confes- 
sed to  her,  that  he  was  the  friend  whose  interfer- 
ence with  her  father  she  hoped  to  have  obtained, 
in  consequence  of  the  influence  she  knew  he  pos- 
sessed over  him. 

'  Ay,  no  doubt/  cried  the  good  dame ;  *  for  I 
believe  the  squire  has  ever  loved  him  as  dearly  as 
if  his  own  son  ;  and  no  wonder,  for  he  was  ever  a 
lovely  youth.  Ah  !  should  any  thing  happen  to 
him,  1  much  fear  my  lord  or  lady  will  never  more 
hold  up  their  heads.' 

(  Oh !  may  an  especial  Providence  watch  over 
him,'  said  Angeline,  emphatically,  '  and  in  safety 
restore  him  to  their  longing  arms  !' 

'  Heaven  grvint !'  cried  her  companion  devout- 
ly. '  Hio  going  abroad,  1  believe,  was  a  sudden 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  279 

thing ;  some  say  it  was  owing  to  his  being  crossed 
in  love/ 

Angeline  started  at  the  surmise,  or  rather  the 
apprehension  now  excited,  of  his  exchange  to  a  re- 
giment rendering  him  liable  to  foreign  service,  be- 
ing owing  to  the  domestic  unhappiness  she  had 
been  the  means  of  occasioning  him.  The  thought 
was  torture — the  thought  that  through  her  means 
he  was  exposed  to  danger — through  hers  perhaps 
doomed  to  an  early  grave. 

Sinking  beneath  it,  she  gladly  acceded  to  the 
dame's  proposal,  to  retire  immediately  to  rest ;  and 
was  accordingly  conducted  by  her  to  a  little  neat 
chamber,  looking  upon  the  deep  woods  of  Rooks- 
dale. 

The  perturbation  of  her  spirits  calmed  by  a  night 
of  repose,  she  began  seriously  to  reflect  on  the 
absolute  necessity  there  was  for  endeavouring  to 
maintain  a  greater  command  over  her  feelings  than 
had  hitherto  been  the  case,  if  she  wished  to  retain 
any  self-possession  ;  and  accordingly  resolved  it 
should  henceforth  be  her  study  to  do  so  \  to  avow 
a  trust  in  Heaven,  and  yet  allow  every  circum- 
stance to  agitate  and  alarm,  was,  she  could  not 
avoid  acknowledging,  a  contradiction  such  as  she 
determined,  for  the  future,  to  try  to  avoid  having 
to  accuse  herself  of. 

But  in  striving  to  acquire  a  command  over  her 
feelings,  she  strove  not  to  subdue  the  sensibility  of 
her  nature.  Her  soul  was  agonized  by  the  ac- 
counts she  daily  received  of  her  father ;  she  be- 
lieved herself  thrown  from  his  heart,  but  still  hers 
fondly  clung  to  him ;  the  cause  of  his  illness,  of 
course,  it  must  be  apparent,  remained  unexplained. 
Aware  of  the  inquiries,  or  rather  conjectures,  the 
disclosure  of  her  supposed  embarkation  for  Spain 


280  MONASTERY    OP    ST.    COLUMB. 

would  probably  occasion,  it  was  decided  between* 
him  and  the  marquis  that  it  should  be  concealed  ; 
in  consequence  of  which  decision,  her  imagined 
death  still  remained  a  secret  in  the  neighbourhood : 
had  not  this  been  the  case,  dame  Goodman  would 
have  felt  something  more  than  surprise  at  her  un- 
expected appearance  in  her  cottage ;  Angeline 
thought  not  of  procuring  more  than  a  temporary 
refuge  in  it ;  but  the  quietness,  the  tranquillity  she 
enjoyed  within  it,  its  vicinity  to  scenes  endeared 
to  her  by  innumerable  circumstances,  all  tended  to 
excite  a  wish  for  remaining  its  inmate,  till,  one  way 
or  other,  her  fate  was  decided.  She  was  spared 
the  necessity  of  hinting  this,  by  the  good-natured 
dame  explicitly  declaring  a  similar  one ;  and  thus 
relieved  from  all  immediate  anxiety  for  the  present, 
she  resigned  herself  to  the  calm  indulgence  of  the 
melancholy  that  was  now  become  habitual  to  her ; 
but  this  was  not  always  of  a  tranquil  nature  ;  re- 
flections obtruded  at  moments,  that  rendered  her 
feelings  scarcely  controllable  :  destitute  of  all  her 
usual  resources,  she  had  but  little  means  of  divert- 
ing them—  but  little  of  preventing  her  thoughts 
from  incessantly  dwelling  on  her  situation.  At 
times  her  incertitude  was  so  agonizing,  as  almost  to 
tempt  her  to  address  a  letter  to  Koscrea,  for  the 
purpose  of  endeavouring  to  obtain  some  informa- 
tion relative  to  Villiers,  but  still  was  withheld,  lest 
any  present  renewal  of  her  former  correspondence 
with  him  should  render  still  more  difficult  the  vin- 
dication she  sighed  for.  Fearful,  however,  as  she 
was  of  this,  she  yet  decided,  should  she  not,  in  the 
course  of  a  few  months,  obtain  an  opportunity  of 
soliciting  the  interference  of  lord  Hexham,  1o  re- 
veal to  him  the  necessity  she  stood  in  for  some 
further  exertion  of  that  friendship  she  had  already 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  28  I 

had  such  experience  of.  Sometimes  she  thought 
of  imparting  her  situation  to  the  marquis  and  mar- 
chioness ;  but  when  she  reflected  on  the  estrange- 
ment of  her  father's  regard,  she  could  not  flatter 
herself  with  having  retained  theirs,  and  was  still 
therefore  deterred  from  persevering  in  the  idea. 

But  in  the  midst  of  affliction,  still,  to  the  truly 
innocent,  innumerable  avenues  of  delight  are  open : 
Angeline  could  not  behold  the  revolving  weeks 
bringing  about  the  season  of  vernal  delight  and  joy 
— could  not  feel  its  soft  gales  blowing  in  on  her  fair 
face  at  the  little  casement  she  loved  to  sit  at — 
could  not  mark  its  genial  influence — see  the  woods 
again  bursting  into  floods  of  verdure,  the  fairest 
flowerets  of  the  year  progressively  succeeding 
each  other,  or  hear  again  the  thrilling  melody  of 
Nature's  choir,  without  a  rapturous  sensation  ;  she 
hailed  its  return,  too,  from  the  opportunity  it 
afforded  her  of  again  enjoying  a  little  exercise.  At 
the  fall  of  day  she  now  no  longer  dreaded  ventur- 
ing forth ;  but  at  length  her  approaching  confine- 
ment compelled  her  to  forego  this  indulgence.  The 
hour  she  had  so  long  been  expecting  at  last  arriv- 
ed, and  she  beheld  herself  the  mother  of  an  infant 
son.  To  dwell  on  the  new  feelings  awakened  by 
his  sight,  must  be  unnecessary ;  but,  alas  !  how 
was  the  rapture  with  which  she  folded  him  to  her 
heart  chastened  by  the  reflection  of  the  circum- 
stances under  which  he  was  born! — the  soul- sub- 
duing reflection,  that  on  her  feeble  protection  it 
might  perhaps  be  his  hapless  fate  to  be  entirely 
thrown—'  But  I  will  not  despair/  she  cried ;  '  still 
will  I  rely  on  the  goodness  of  that  Being  who  sup* 
ported  me  through  so  many  dangers  and  difficul- 
ties— who  has  brought  me  in  safety  through  this 
hour  of  peril.' 

VOL.    II.  B  b 


282  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

Alas !  she  was  soon  relieved  from  the  additional 
anxiety  he  excited;  convulsive  spasms  terminated 
his  little  being  on  the  third  day.  The  good  dame 
was  all  grief  and  consternation  at  his  death,  from 
the  consequences  she  apprehended  from  it  to  the 
tender  mother;  she  wished,  but  feared  it  would  be 
impossible,  to  conceal  it  till  she  was  better  enabled 
to  bear  the  shock  it  must  occasion,  and,  as  she 
surmised,  soon  found  her  inquiries  were  not  to  be 
baffled ;  the  vague  manner  in  which  she  replied  to 
them  led  to  a  suspicion  of  the  truth,  that  obliged 
her  to  be  sincere.  Angeline,  for  some  minutes  after 
hearing  it,  could  not  command  her  feelings ;  then  a 
little  recovering  herself,  she  insisted  on  seeing  the 
little  remains  ;  in  vain  her  careful  attendant  expos- 
tulated ;  she  would  not  be  denied  this  sad  indul- 
gence ;  and  accordingly,  extended  on  her  arms  like 
a  waxen  image,  the  little  body  was  at  length  brought 
to  her  by  the  dame.  Involuntarily  she  extended 
her  feeble  ones  to  receive  it,  and  for  some  minutes 
held  it  to  her  anguished  heart,  as  if  she  hoped  to 
have  warmed  it  into  life  again;  then  passionately 
gazing  on  its  innocent  face,  to  which  the  tranquillity 
of  death  imparted  a  still  greater  expression  of  in- 
nocence— '  Oh !  my  babe,'  she  cried,  pressing  her 
quivering  lips  to  its  cold  ones,  '  1  could  have  wish- 
ed thee  spared ;  but  still  I  bow  submissively  to  the 
will  of  Heaven,  whose  chastisements  are  often 
those  of  mercy,  and  which  in  calling  thee  thus 
early  hence,  may  have  saved  thee  from  the  evil 
that  was  to  come.  Short  was  thy  sojourn  here, 
but  endless  is  the  bliss  to  which  it  has  been  the 
means  of  leading  thee ;  convinced  of  this,  selfish,  I 
confess,  are  my  regrets,  but  nature  must  have  its 
tribute/ 

Grief  retarded  her  recovery;    and  her  slow 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  283 

amendment  might  have  been  still  slower,  but  for 
the  sudden  turn  given  to  her  feelings  by  the  an- 
nouncement of  lord  Hexham's  arrival  from  Spain ; 
but  though  her  heart  throbbed  with  anxiety  for  an 
interview  with  him,  she  could  not  think,  after  his 
long  absence  from  his  family,  of  immediately  at- 
tempting to  engross  him  with  her  concerns  :  but 
like  human  joy  in  general,  hers  was  not  without  al- 
loy on  this  occasion ;  she  understood  he  had  suffer- 
ed severely  in  a  recent  engagement,  and  felt  deep 
regret  at  the  information.  As  a  counterbalance, 
however,  to  the  pain  it  occasioned,  hopes  were  now 
inspired  of  the  recovery  of  her  father,  from  his 
being  again  able  to  rise,  and  enjoy  abroad  the  balmy 
breezes  of  the  season ;  but  though  she  sighed  to 
catch  a  view  of  his  loved  features,  her  dread  of 
appearing  prematurely  in  his  presence  was  too 
great  not  to  make  her  still  confine  herself  to  the 
house,  except  at  the  hour  of  dusk,  and  then  she 
seldom  ventured  beyond  the  solitary  church-yard 
where  her  child  was  interred. 

Lord  Hexham  had  indeed  been  a  sufferer  in  the 
affair  of  Salamanca,  insomuch  that  his  immediate 
return  to  his  native  country  was  deemed  absolutely 
expedient.  That  he  had  escaped  with  life  was 
almost  a  matter  of  astonishment  to  those  who  had 
seen  him  in  the  engagement ;  but  the  god  of  bat- 
tles was  pleased  to  preserve  him  to  his  friends.  By 
the  time  he  arrived,  his  wounds  were  tolerably 
healed,  all  but  those  that  defied  the  power  of  hu- 
man skill ;  still  with  unmitigated  anguish  he  deplor- 
ed the  imagined  loss  of  Angelina — still  apostro- 
phized her  spirit,  with  all  the  passionate  fondness  of 
despairing  love.  His  countenaace  was  too  expres- 
sive of  what  he  felt — of  incurable  sadness — of 
consuming  melancholy,  not  to  occasion  his  friends 


284  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

to  be  shocked  by  his  appearance ;  the  youthful 
spirit  of  his  eyes  extinguished,  pale,  drooping,  lan- 
guid, but  the  shadow  of  what  he  once  was,  they 
saw,  with  equal  grief  and  consternation,  that  if 
something  was  not  speedily  done  to  compel  him  to 
exert  himself,  there  was  but  little  probability  of 
his  remaining  much  longer  an  inhabitant  of  this 
sphere.  To  hearts  like  theirs,  how  agonizing  the 
idea !  Yet  ere  they  had  recourse  to  expostulation, 
they  determined  to  try  what  efforts  to  divert  his 
thoughts  would  do ;  but  they  failed  in  their  at- 
tempts ;  nothing  could  detach  them  from  the  con- 
templation of  his  loss :  he  forced  himself,  it  is  true, 
to  converse,  but  the  wandering  of  his  looks,  and 
his  broken  sentences,  proclaimed  the  deep  abstrac- 
tion of  his  mind ;  and  at  each  opportunity,  he  has- 
tened to  those  lonely  scenes  that  restored  the  dear 
idea  of  her  he  believed  long  since  departed  from 
this  world  of  woe :  yet  a  gleam  of  pleasure  pervad- 
ed his  sad  breast,  at  hearing  of  the  expected  reco- 
very of  Clanronel ;  his  return  was  cautiously  broke 
to  him;  and  an  interview  soon  after  took  place. 
He  tried  to  support  it  with  composure ;  but  the 
recollections  revived  by  it  completely  overcame  him ; 
and  the  sorrowing  father,  from  the  same  cause,  was 
equally  affected;  he  had  imagined  it  impossible  for 
any  circumstance  to  attach  him  more  to  him  ;  but 
the  grief  he  evinced  for  the  loss  of  her  he  mourned, 
had  the  effect  of  convincing  him  he  erred  in  think- 
ing so.  Nothing  indeed  is  so  calculated  to  attach 
the  afflicted  heart,  as  a  participation  in  its  sorrows. 
But  the  marquis  could  not  long  remain  passive  un- 
der the  apprehensions  excited  by  his  conduct — 
could  not  tamely  brook  beholding  him  resign  him- 
self to  the  unrestrained  indulgence  of  grief:  having 
fully  deliberated  how  to  act,  he  at  length  addressed 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  285 

him  on  the  subject — '  I  had  hoped/  he  said,  as  he 
closed  the  door  of  the  library,  to  which  he  had  de- 
sired him  to  follow,,  from  the  breakfast  parlour, '  that 
consideration  for  the  feelings  of  your  family  would 
have  rendered  unnecessary  my  reminding  you  of 
what  is  due  to  them ;  but  with  regret  I  perceive, 
that  that  of  a  recent  affliction  has  rendered  you 
utterly  forgetful  of  it — that  in  mourning  the  dead, 
you  disregard  the  living/ 

There  was  something  of  severity  in  this  reproach, 
that  could  ill  be  borne  by  the  unhappy  Hexham ; 
his  cheek  alternately  flushed  and  faded — '  You 
wrong  me/  he  cried  with  emotion,  '  Heaven  is  my 
witness  :  the  anguish  inflicted  by  the  circumstance 
you  have  alluded  to,  is  aggravated  by  the  unhap- 
piness  1  am  aware  it  must  occasion  to  others ;  but 
to  subdue  my  feelings  I  find  to  be  impossible/ 

*  Tell  me  not  so/  almost  sternly  returned  the 
marquis  ;  *  whatever  is  a  duty,  we  are  all  enabled 
to  accomplish ;  and  it  is  the  duty  of  every  rational 
being  to  bend  submissively  to  the  will  of  Heaven. 
Be  the  dead  forgot,  if  they  can  only  be  remember- 
ed to  the  injury  of  the  claims  of  the  living :  'tis 
time  for  you  to  shake  off  this  enervating  sadness — 
to  rouse  yourself  from  this  selfish,  this  absorbing  in- 
dulgence of  grief;  the  claims  of  society,  the  duty 
you  owe  your  family,  render  it  absolutely  requisite 
you  should  do  so.  To  render  the  effort  successful, 
you  must  form  new  ties,  new  connexions  ;  'tis  only 
by  doing  so  you  can  hope  to  completely  subdue 
the  recollections  that  now  corrode  your  peace.  To 
behold  you  in  possession  of  domestic  felicity,  has 
long  been  the  first  wish  of  my  heart,  you  must  be 
aware:  at  this  very  moment,  there  is  a  lady  be- 
neath my  roof,  with  whom  1  think  it  so  impossible 
you  could  avoid  enjoying  it,  that  I  have  absolutely 


£86  MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

decided  on  effecting  an  union  between  you.  Nay, 
do  not  look  so  startled ;  surely  you  must  have  sup- 
posed I  would  yet  suggest  a  thing  of  the  kind/ 

'  Pardon  me,'  returned  the  greatly- agitated  Hex- 
ham  ;  '  I  did  not  permit  myself  to  entertain  so  dis- 
tressing an  apprehension ;  at  least,  L  did  not  allow 
myself  to  think,  that  while  the  loss  of  her  I  loved 
was  so  recent,  a  thing  of  the  kind  could  have  been 
suggested.' 

'  If  it  appears  precipitate,  the  expediency  of  the 
measure  furnishes  an  excuse  for  its  being  so.  1 
have  already  said,  'tis  only  by  forming  new  ties, 
new  connexions,  there  is  any  chance  of  your  being 
roused  to  those  exertions  requisite  to  enable  you 
to  throw  off  the  weight  that  now  oppresses  you ; 
and  thinking  so,  you  may  readily  believe  I  shall  not 
be  easily  induced  to  relinquish  the  point  in  view  ; 
and  surely,  at  liberty  as  you  now  are  to  form  a  new 
engagement,  when  you  reflect  on  the  acquiescence 
your  wishes  met  from  me,  you  should,  in  return, 
be  led  to  evince  some  little  complaisance  to  mine.' 

'  Oh  Heavens  !'  exclaimed  the  embarrassed,  and 
still  more  agitated  Hexham,  '  in  any  other  instant e, 
how  great  would  be  my  happiness  in  paying  obedi- 
ence to  them !' 

'  This  is  the  only  one  in  which  I  deem  it  requisite 
to  urge  you ;  my  heart  is  set  upon  this  union  ;  and 
should  you  persist  in  objecting  to  it,  1  must  believe 
that  my  happiness  is  but  a  secondary  consideration 
with  you.' 

'  Good  God !  how  would  you  wrong  me  by  such 
a  supposition !  But  allow  me  at  least  some  little 
time  to  deliberate  respecting  it — some  little  time  to 
try  and  reconcile  myself  to  the  thoughts  of  what  I 
had  resolutely  vowed  against  ever  entertaining  an 
idea  of  again/ 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  $8? 

'  Impossible ;  exclusive  of  my  unwillingness,  on 
your  account,  to  allow  of  any  delay,  there  are  cir- 
cumstances that  put  it  out  of  my  power  to  do  so. 
You  have  heard  me  speak  of  Miss  Frazer;  she  is 
the  lady  in  question ;  her  mother,  the  intimate 
friend  of  the  marchioness,  you  know,  was  compelled 
to  decline  accompanying  colonel  Frazer  to  the 
East  Indies,  owing  to  his  extreme  barbarity  to  her 
and  her  child:  she  died  a  few  months  ago,  just  time 
enough  to  avoid  being  again  subjected  to  his  tyran- 
ny, as  last  week  his  return  home  was  publicly  an- 
nounced in  the  papers.  Miss  Frazer's  consterna- 
tion at  the  circumstance  was  so  great,  as  to  occasion 
her  to  immediately  "hasten  hither,  there  being  no- 
thing she  so  much  dreads  as  finding  herself  again 
in  his  power :  to  relieve  herself  from  this  apprehen- 
sion, since,  though  of  age,  and  consequently  in 
some  degree  her  own  mistress,  the  delicacy  of  her 
feelings  would  not  permit  her  openly  to  resist  his 
will,  I  laughingly  advised  her  immediately  vesting 
some  one  with  a  legal  right  to  protect  her ;  and  gra- 
ually  becoming  more  serious,  proposed  an  alliance 
with  the  son  of  her  lamented  mother's  most  beloved 
friend.  The  proposal  was  acceded  to  ;  and  beyond 
this  day  the  ceremony  must  not  be  delayed,  inti- 
mation having  been  received  of  her  father  being  on 
his  way  hither,  for  the  express  purpose  of  forcing 
her  hence,  the  fortune  she  inherits,  in  right  of  her 
deceased  parent  rendering  him  anxious  to  have  her 
under  his  immediate  control/ 

'  Good  Heaven,  how  am  I  agonized  !'  exclaimed 
lord  Hexham.  '  The  idea  of  the  hasty  connexion 
1  am  thus  required  to  form,  is  revolting  to  every 
feeling  of  my  heart ;  incapable  as  I  feel  it  of  change, 
how,  in  honour,  in  humanity,  can  I  think  of  it  ?' 

( Did  I  entertain  a  similar  belief,  I  should  not  urge 


288  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

it/  returned  the  marquis ;  '  but  I  have  not  the 
smallest  doubt  of  a  happy  alteration  being  effected 
in  your  sentiments,  by  an  union  with  a  person  of 
such  airiiable  manners  and  refined  accomplishments, 
of  your  speedily  being  restored,  through  it,  to  all 
your  former  relish  for  the  social  joys  of  life/ 

'  But  our  mutual  friend,  Clanronel,  what  will  he 
say  to  the  intimation,  which  my  consenting  to  it 
must  be  consideredj  of  having  ceased  to  think  of 
his  Angeline  ?  will  he  not  be  wounded  by  the  idea 
of  her  being  so  soon  forgotten  ?  will  he  be  able  to 
pardon  her  memory  being  so  soon  apparently  con- 
signed to  the  gloomy  oblivion  of  her  early  grave  ? 
Oh !  even  when  they  slumber  in  the  dust,  are  we 
not  still  jealous  for  those  whom  we  have  regarded  ?' 

'  The  mind  of  our  friend  is  too  noble,'  replied  the 
marquis,  to  permit  of  his  sensibility  ever  degene- 
rating into  selfishness.  That  he  should  wish  his 
departed  child  still  to  live  in  the  recollection  of 
those  she  esteemed,  is  but  natural;  but  he  by  no 
means  desires  others  to  participate  in  the  lasting 
grief  her  loss  has  entailed  on  him  :  he  knows  the 
claims  society  has  upon  you — he  knows  how  great- 
ly the  happiness  of  your  connexions  depends  on 
yours ;  and  he,  in  consequence,  fervently  unites 
with  me  in  wishing  for  the  union  I  have  planned, 
from  concurring  in  opinion  with  me,  as  to  the  hap- 
py effects  that  may  be  expected  from  it.  That 
you  can  doubt  what  I  have  asserted,  1  cannot  rea- 
dily imagine ;  should  i  be  mistaken,  however,  an 
interview  with  him  will  convince  you  1  have  not 
deceived  you ;  although  1  acknowledge,  from  the 
agitation  it  must  necessarily  occasion  him,  1  could 
wish  one  on  the  subject  avoided/ 

Thus  urged,  thus  importuned,  his  reason  and 
feelings  alike  appealed  to — compelled  to  reflect  on 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLTJMB.         289 

all  he  owed  his  family  for  their  former  indulgence  to 
his  wishes,  and  as  an  atonement  for  the  extreme  un- 
kappiness  he  had  been  the  means  of  occasioning 
them,  his  resolution  began  to  falter ;  and  at  length 
a  reluctant  acquiescence  to  the  wishes  of  the  mar- 
quis was  wrung  #om  him. 

The  feelings  evinced  at  the  moment  were  of  a 
nature  to  excite  such  an  apprehension  in  the  mind 
of  the  marquis,  as  induced  him  to  determine  on 
giving  him  no  time  for  reflection,  or  rather  power  to 
retract. 

But  to  disappoint  the  expectations  he  had  rais- 
ed, nothing  perhaps  could  voluntarily  have  induced 
the  unhappy  Hexham ;  he  felt  wretched  at  the  idea 
of  the  promise  extorted  from  him,  but  still  felt  he 
could  better  endure  the  misery  it  inflicted,  than  the 
reflection  of  occasioning  another  pang  to  his  father 
by  shrinking  from  it. 

Considering  it  irrevocable,  he  endeavoured  to 
collect  himself,  nor  declined  an  immediate  intro- 
duction to  Miss  Frazer ;  but  when  he  found  him- 
self actually  in  her  presence,  his  agitation  became 
so  great,  as  scarcely  to  allow  of  his  articulating  the 
grateful  acknowledgment  he  deemed  requisite  for 
the  honour  she  had  done  him.  Either  his  emotion 
was  contagious,  or  else  some  secret  disapproval  of 
the  precipitancy  of  the  proceeding,  gave  an  almost 
equal  appearance  of  embarrassment  to  her  manner ; 
this  was  too  evident  to  the  marquis,  not  to  occasion 
him  to  shorten  the  interview,  from  a  consequent 
conviction,  that  to  do  so  must  be  agreeable  to  her, 
and  to  which  he  was  still  further  induced,  by  the 
little  time  that  remained  for  the  necessary  arrange- 
ments, the  ensuing  evening  being  fixed  on  for  the 
performance  of  the  ceremony.  What  a  torturing 
interval  was  that  passed  by  the  unhappy  Hexham  ! 


•290  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

yet  it  was  some  relief  to  him,  to  find  he  was  not  to 
meet  Miss  Frazer  again,  till  summoned  to  receive 
her  hand,  owing  to  the  wish  expressed  to  have  her 
residence  at  the  Abbey  remain  unannounced,  till 
freed  from  the  apprehension  that  occasioned  her  so 
readily  to  accede  to  the  proposition  of  the  marquis. 
He  wished  to  see  Clanronel,  in  order  that  he  might 
be  assured,  beyond  a  doubt,  the  measure  into 
which  he  was  hurried  would  not  be  a  means  of 
alienating  his  regard  from  him,  but  feared  to  desire 
an  interview,  lest  it  should  render  still  more  dif- 
ficult his  maintaining  a  command  over  himself;  but 
with  the  irritableness  of  a  mind  rendered  sore  by 
affliction,  he  could  ill  brook  the  manifestations  of 
the  joy  that  was  experienced  at  the  approaching 
event ;  he  wondered  his  feelings  could  be  so  little 
understood,  as  to  permit  a  sensation  of  the  kind  to 
be  felt. 

But  though  perhaps  aware  of  the  effect  it  might 
have  upon  him,  the  marquis  and  marchioness  could 
not  dissemble  the  pleasure  it  afforded  them  :  never 
indeed  had  they  felt  themselves  in  the  enjoyment 
of  purer  happiness  than  at  this  juncture,  of  so 
many  anxious  cares  did  they  suddenly  find  them- 
selves divested ;  of  these,  the  least  embittering 
were  not  those  they  experienced  on  lady  Rosa- 
mond's account,  between  whom  and  Roscrea  a  hap- 
py reconciliation  was  just  at  this  period  effected. 

At  length  the  hour  fixed  for  the  plighting  of  his 
vows  to  another,  those  vows  he  imagined  death 
had  cancelled  to  his  lamented  Angeline,  arrived, 
and,  accompanied  by  his  brother,  lord  Hexham  re- 
paired to  the  chapel,  where,  as  expected,  he  found 
the  bride,  with  his  father  and  the  rest  of  the  family. 
It  was  by  this  time  nearly  dark ;  he  was  not  a  little 
surprised,  therefore,  at  its  remaining  unlit,,  its 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB, 

gloom,  in  consequence,  rendering  objects  at  a  dis- 
stance  scarcely  discernible.  Without  commenting 
on  the  circumstance,  however,  he  took  the  hand 
of  the  bride,  and  led  her  to  the  altar,  where  the 
chaplain  stood  waiting  to  perform  the  ceremony. 
Miss  Frazer's  name  was  also  Clora,  like  hers  in 
reality  whom  he  lamented ;  and  when  called  upon 
to  pronounce  this  loved  name — when,  in  return,  he 
heard  it  uttered  in  low  trembling  accents  by  her, 
with  difficulty  could  he  prevent  a  groan  of  tortur- 
ing recollection  from  escaping  him  ;  endeavouring, 
however,  to  recollect  himself,  when  the  ceremony 
was  over,  he  made  a  faint  effort  to  raise  the  veil 
which  shaded,  or  rather  completely  concealed  her 
features ;  but  almost  snatching  her  from  his  intend- 
ed embrace,  the  marquis  hurried  her  towards  an 
adjacent  door,  desiring  him  to  repair  to  the  draw- 
room,  and  they  would  speedily  follow.  Lord 
Hexham  instinctively  obeyed,  but  not  without 
deeming  this  procedure  strange ;  altogether,  indeed, 
there  appeared  a  something  of  mystery,  of  abrupt- 
ness, in  the  affair,  that  filled  him  with  equal  surprise 
and  perplexity.  Musing  on  it,  he  threw  himself 
on  a  seat  on  entering  the  apartment,  unconscious  of 
having  been  followed  thither,  till  roused  to  percep- 
tion by  Koscrea's  exclaiming,  as  he  slapped  him 
on  the  shoulder — f  Do,  pray,  my  dear  fellow,  for 
Heaven's  sake,  do  recollect  yourself,  and  try  to 
assume  the  air  of  what  you  really  are.' 

1  Oh  pray  do  !'  cried  lady  Mara;  '  for  as  you 
now  look,  you  really  accord  more  with  the  idea 
one  has  formed  of  a  monk  of  La  Trappe  than  of  a 
bridegroom.' 

<  Assurement  /'  cried  lord  Mountbrilliant,  who 
was  again  an  inmate  at  the  Abbey,  and  now  looked 
forward  to  speedily  becoming  one  himself,  prefer- 


MONASTERY    OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

ring  to  become  a  Benedict,  rather  than  resign  the 
lovely  little  Mara,  to  which  alternative  he  had  been 
reduced,  by  the  positive  declaration  of  the  mar- 
quis, to  permit  no  longer  the  continuance  of  his 
dangling  attentions  to  her :  yet  had  the  fond  father 
believed  his  vanity  incorrigible,  nothing  could  pos- 
sibly have  induced  him  to  accede  to  the  overture 
which  this  declaration  induced  him  to  immediately 
make ;  but  with  all  his  eccentric  follies,  he  con- 
ceived him  possessed  both  of  a  sufficient  portion 
of  understanding  and  sensibility  to  be  able  to  cor- 
rect his  errors,  and  do  justice  to  the  virtues  of  an 
amiable  woman,  and  consequently,  that  in  entrust- 
ing the  happiness  of  his  beloved  child  to  his  care, 
he  allowed  it  to  run  no  risk. 

The  disconsolate  Hexham  tried  to  make  the  re- 
quired exertion,  but  never  did  he  feel  it  so  painful 
to  feign  what  he  did  not  feel.  They  were  presently 
joined  by  the  rest  of  the  party  ;  lord  George  first 
entered,  conducting  the  bride,  and  was  followed 
by  the  marquis,  marchioness,  and  lady  Rosamond; 
from  the  looks  of  the  former,  he  might  well  have 
been  mistaken  for  the  bridegroom,  the  animating 
glow  that  flushed  his  cheek,  the  ardour  that  spark- 
led in  his  eyes ;  lord  Hexham  advanced  to  meet 
them  as  they  entered,  and  tenderly  saluted  her : 
but  lord  George  retained  her  hand,  nor  did  he  at- 
tempt to  make  room  for  his  brother  on  the  sofa  to 
which  he  led  her :  lord  Hexham  felt  rather  surprised 
at  this  conduct — rather  surprised  at  his  acting 
as  if  he  wished  entirely  to  engross  her  attention ; 
immediately,  however,  he  could  not  bring  him- 
self to  assert  his  superior  claim  to  it,  although 
he  could  not  avoid  secretly  acknowledging,  as 
he  gazed  on  her^  observed  the  soft  expression 
of  her  countenance,  and  fugitive  blushes  that  im- 
parted additional  charms  to  it,  she  was  equally 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

deserving  of  love  and  admiration,  an  object  too 
interesting  to  be  contemplated  with  impunity  by  a 
disengaged  heart :  the  approach  of  the  rest  of  the 
party  to  offer  congratulations,  again  obliged  him  to 
shake  off  his  inclination  to  thoughtfulness,  and  at 
the  same  moment  the  village  bells  ringing  out,  pro- 
claimed the  announcement  of  his  marriage ;  he 
sighed  at  the  thought — sighed  as  if  till  then  he  had 
not  been  perfectly  sensible  of  it,  or  rather  of  the 
reflection  suggested  by  it,  of  the  necessity  of 
henceforth  endeavouring  to  banish  the  idea  of  An- 
geJine ;  oh,  Heavens !  of  her  to  whom  his  vows 
had  been  so  recently  plighted — of  her  for  wlieni  he 
should  still  have  been  wrapt  in  the  weeds  of  sor- 
row, of  her  who,  on  many  accounts,  had  a  right  to 
live  for  ever  in  his  memory — '  Oh,  had  1  explained 
the  tie  that  bound  us  to  my  father/  he  internally 
exclaimed,  '  never,  I  am  convinced,  would  he 
have  urged  my  present  engagement !  but  then  to 
have  avoided  it,  what  should  1  have  incurred  ?  the 
loss  of  his  esteem,  his  confidence,  by  the  acknow- 
ledged violation  of  my  promise/ 

He  strove  to  subdue  the  weakness  of  regret,  and 
counterfeit  something  of  the  joy  that  now  seemed 
to  pervade  the  mansion;  the  pealing  of  the  bells — 
the  splendid  illumination  of  the  apartments — -the 
pleasure  that  sparkled  in  every  eye,  and  the  kind 
of  joyous  bustle  of  the  domestics,  all  indicated  in- 
deed the  celebration  of  some  happy  festival :  at 
length  an  opportunity  for  addressing  himself  to  the 
bride  occurred,  and  he  availed  himself  of  it.  Ta- 
king the  seat  lord  George  had  occupied,  he  softly 
expressed  the  gratitude  her  condescension  had  ex- 
cited, and  was  proceeding  to  assure  her  of  (he 
happiness  he  should  derive  from  endeavouring  to 
evince  it  to  her,  when  a  servant,  with  a  mysterious 

VOL.  II.  C  C 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB. 

air,  suddenly  beckoned  him  from  the  apartment — 
'  1  hope  your  lordship  will  forgive  me/  he  cried,  as 
he  led  the  way  into  an  antichamber,  '  for  letting 
you  be  troubled  about  any  business  at  this  moment; 
but  indeed  1  could  not  help  it,  the  old  woman  was 
so  urgent.' 

'  What  woman  f '  demanded  lord  Hexham,  impa- 
tiently, and  looking  rather  wildly. 

'  Why,  the  woman  who  brought  this/  present- 
ing him  with  a  letter ;  '  an  old  cottager,  please  your 
lordship,  belonging  to  Rooksdale.' 

Lord  Hexham  hastily  ran  his  eye  over  the  su- 
perscription— the  hand  seemed  not  unknown  to 
him — he  tore  open  the  envelope,  and  glancing  at 
the  signature,  would  instantly  after  have  fallen, 
but  for  the  timely  support  of  the  equally  astonish- 
ed and  affrighted  attendant,  who  seeing  him 
change  colour  and  stagger,  extended  his  arms  to 
catch  him.  The  cry  he  uttered  at  the  moment 
was  heard  in  the  drawing-room,  and  brought  out 
the  party  there, 

'  Good  God !  what  is  the  matter  ?'  exclaimed  the 
marquis.  '  What  has  happened  to  occasion  this 
disorder  ?' 

Raising  himself  from  the  shoulder  of  the  servant, 
against  which  he  had  sunk,  lord  Hexham  looked 
wildly  at  him  for  a  moment,  but  without  speaking; 
then  again  glancing  at  the  letter,  which  he  still  held 
grasped  in  his  hand — '  My  wife — my  beloved/  in 
accents  scarce  articulate,  he  cried. 

'  Speak  lohim,  my  dear/  said  the  marquis,  turn- 
ing to  the  bride,  as  if  he  concluded  it  was  her  he 
meant. 

Timidly  approaching  him — '  My  dear  lord/  she 
said,  gently  taking  his  hand,  'you  alarm  me  I 
What  is  the  cause  of  this  emotion  ?' 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  2Q* 

Lord  Hexham  shook  her  from  him  like  some- 
thing loathsome,  and  striking  his  forehead  with  an 
air  of  distraction,  would  have  rushed  from  the  room, 
but  for  the  interposition  of  the  marquis  :  dismissing 
the  attendant,  he  requested  all  but  the  chaplain, 
the  marchioness,  and  lady  Rosamond,  to  retire, 
and  no  sooner  found  himself  obeyed,  than  he  de- 
manded an  explanation  of  the  distress  he  witnessed. 

'  Oh,  inquire  not !'  returned  lord  Hexham,  with 
the  wildest  emotion ;  '  detain  me  not ! — she  calls 
for  me  ! — she  expects  me  !  Yet,  oh  Heavens !  is 
it  possible ! — may  1  indeed  believe  that  it  is  her 
hand  has  traced  these  lines  ! — that  she  lives ! — that 
I  shall  again  behold  her  !' 

*  This  is  madness/  cried  the  marquis ;  *  or  at 
least  1  must  think  so,  if  you  cannot  explain  the 
meaning  of  those  incoherent  sentences/ 

'  Oh  God,  how  can  I !'  said  the  anguished 
Hexham,  again  striking  his  forehead ;  '  and  yet  it 
must  be  done — yes,  at  length  I  must  have  the  tor- 
ture of  proving  myself  unworthy  of  the  affection 
that  has  been  lavished  on  me — of  the  confidence 
I  have  so  long  experienced ;  but  perhaps  the  burst- 
ing agony  of  my  heart  may  have  some  effect  in 
softening  the  indignation  my  confession  must  in- 
spire. Oh,  my  father  !  oh,  my  mother !  what  have 
1  not  previously  made  you  suffer  J  What  am  I 
not  destined  still  to  make  you  feel !  Would  to 
God,  to  have  prevented  this,  that,  where  so  ma- 
ny of  my  gallant  countrymen  fell,  1  now  slept  si- 
lent, though  but  too  probably  not  forgotten.'  For 
a-few  minutes  he  covered  his  face  with  his  hands, 
and  then,  a  little  recollecting  himself,  proceeded 
to  relate  all  that  is  already  known  to  the  reader. 

1  Unhappy  young  man,'  said  the  marquis,  on  his 
concluding,  '  in  what  a  terrible  predicament  have 


MONASTEKY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

you  placed  yourself,  by  suffering  the  voice  of  pas- 
sion to  tempt  you  to  a  violation  of  your  word — of 
that  which  a  noble  mind  can  never  forfeit  without 
remorse,  nor  which,  in  any  instance,  can  be  bro- 
ken without  a  retributive  punishment !  for  in  what 
a  labyrinth  of  difficulties  are  we  involved  by  a  de- 
parture from  integrity,  one  deviation  from  it  al- 
most invariably  occasioning  another !  1  pity  you 
so  much,  for  the  misery  you  have  been  the  means 
of  entailing  on  yourself,  by  the  forfeiture  of  your 
word,  that,  oh,  how  humiliating  must  the  declara- 
tion be  to  you!  I  know  not  how  to  upbraid  you; 
and  yet  surely  never  father  had  a  juster  right  to 
upbraid  a  son  than  I  have  you.  With  shame,  with 
contrition,  you  must  acknowledge  this,  when  you 
reflect  on  my  conduct  towards  you — when  you  re- 
flect on  what  1  forgave,  what  I  acceded  to,  on 
condition  of  the  promise  which  you  have  now,  I 
find,  violated.  Had  you  adhered  to  it,  how  diffe- 
rent would  have  been  your  present  feelings  !  You 
would  not  then  have  had  to  reproach  yourself  as 
the  probable  cause  of  the  unhappiness  of  two  amia- 
ble women/ 

'  Oh  God !  how  can  I  sustain  the  idea  ?'  cried 
the  agonized  Hexham.  *  Oh,  my  father,  aid  me, 
assist  me,  in  this  trying  hour ;  without  your  ad- 
vice, your  support,  1  sink  beneath  jt.'  He  threw 
himself  on  a  seat,  and  covering  his  face  with  his 
hands,  appeared  to  resign  himself  to  despair. 

Some  one  bending  over  him  caused  him  sudden- 
ly to  uncover  his  eyes ;  he  started — scarce  could 
he  believe  their  evidence — scarce  that  it  was  her 
indeed  he  saw — scarce  that  it  was  Angeline.  In- 
voluntarily recoiling,  for  a  moment  he  gazed  at  her 
with  a  look  of  wild  dismay,  then  clasping  her  to 
his  heart,  forgot,  in  that  ecstatic  moment,  all  that 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMJB.  297 

he  had  recently  been  suffering — all  that  he  had  yet 
reason  to  dread. 

The  unexpected  sound  of  Clanronel's  voice, 
hardly  articulate  through  emotion,  first  recalled 
him  to  recollection,  and  with  truth  it  might  be  said, 
from  bliss  he  again  awoke  to  anguish  ;  he  shudder- 
ed at  the  idea  of  the  communication  they  had  to 
receive,  as  one  that  might  perhaps  be  a  means  of 
depriving  him  again  of  her  who  had  so  lately  been 
restored  to  him,  of  robbing  him  of  her  affection,  her 
esteem.  Under  the  torturing  apprehension,  that 
perhaps  another  minute  might  not  elapse  ere  she 
struggled  to  disengage  herself  from  them,  he  sud- 
denly withdrew  his  arms  from  her,  and  again  throw- 
ing himself  on  a  seat,  covered  his  face. 

'  Come,  come,  my  lord/  cried  the  greatly-agi- 
tated Clanronel,  addressing  the  marquis,  '  these 
conflicts  must  be  terminated ;  I  cannot  consent  to 
their  prolongation/ 

'  Nor  [,  indeed/  said  the  equally-affected  mar- 
chioness ;  '  rny  lord/  smiling  through  her  tears, 
she  added,  '  must  recollect,  that  by  prolonging 
them,  he  would  be  punishing  the  innocent  as  well 
as  the  guilty.* 

'  Those  who  know  me,  rnust,  I  believe,  be  as- 
sured, that  to  inflict  pain  on  those  1  love,  is  to  in- 
flict it  on  myself/  returned  the  marquis ;  '  but  if 
we  wish  to  satisfy  our  reason,  we  must  sometimes 
act  contrary  to  our  feelings.  Never  may  I  have 
the  torture  of  again  deeming  it  necessary  to  do  so  ; 
what  has  been  experienced  this  night — the  terrible 
consequences  that  might  have  resulted  from  disin- 
genuousness,  will,  i  trust,  have  the  effect  of  ever 
preventing  any  thing  similar  froAbeing  incurred 
again.'  He  then  proceeded  to^^B^in  the  decep- 
tion that  had  been  pra<  H  Hexham. 
c  c  2^ 


298  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  OOJLU31I5. 

Angelina,  as  already  stated,  was  in  the  habit  of 
venturing,  in  the  dusk,  from  the  cottage.  In  one 
of  her  lonely  visits  to  the  little  grave  of  her  child, 
over  which  she  felt  a  melancholy  pleasure  in  weep- 
ing, she  was  surprised  by  the  marquis,  in  his  way 
through  the  churchyard  to  Rooksdale :  when  the 
first  emotions  of  astonishment  were  over,  the  kind 
of  awe  with  which  surprise  was  mingled  had  sub- 
sided, a  mutual  explanation  ensued,  that  solved  all 
that  had  hitherto  appeared  mysterious  to  each.  In 
breaking  to  the  sorrowing  father  the  agitating  dis- 
covery, the  marquis  lost  no  time ;  but  all  his  cau- 
tion was  necessary  to  prevent  his  sinking  beneath 
the  feelings  it  excited;  those  of  joy  and  gratitude, 
however,  were  not  the  only  ones  it  inspired  ;  with 
rapture  at  her  unexpected  restoration,  was  mingled 
indignation  at  the  conduct  that  might  have  prevent- 
ed it — the  cruel  selfishness  of  Mrs.  Clanronel,  in 
having  recourse  to  imposition  to  prevent  not  mere- 
ly their  reconciliation,,  but  ever  meeting  again. 
Yielding  to  its  dictates,  he  decided  on  an  immedi- 
ate separation,  a  decision  in  which  she  readily  ac- 
quiesced, by  the  advice  of  her  mother,  in  conse- 
quence of  her  being  perfectly  satisfied  with  the 
instructions  he  proposed  giving  his  lawyer  on  the 
subject ;  and  accordingly,  without  further  delay, 
she  departed,  with  her  ladyship  and  her  sisters,  for 
the  delightful  scenes  from  which  she  had  been  so 
long,  according  to  her  computation,  sequestered. 
But  the  pleasure  of  the  marquis  at  finding,  by  the 
explanation  of  Angeline,  there  was  no  further  cause 
for  anxiety  relative  to  the  happiness  of  lord  Hex- 
ham,  could  not  immediately  induce  him  to  forgive 
the  violation,  q^^^Dromise  he  had  plighted  to 
him,  and,  in  rctJ^BJHj^deeming  it,  on  many  ac- 
counts, expoclifl  Bfcie  marriage  of  Angeline 


MONASTERY    OF    ST.    COLUMB.  SQ9 

solemnized  again,  he  resolved  to  take  advantage  of 
the  circumstance,  to  practise  such  a  deception  on 
him  as  should,  in  some  degree,  inflict  on  him  the 
punishment  he  conceived  it  merited.  From  his 
abstracted  state  of  mind,  he  found  no  great  diffi- 
culty in  being  enabled  to  carry  this  determination 
into  effect,  more  especially  as  what  he  had  stated 
with  regard  to  Miss  Frazer  was  really  the  fact,  with 
this  difference,  that  it  was  for  lord  George,  who 
had  for  some  time  been  enamoured  of  her,  he  had 
made  an  overture  for  her  hand  :  she  suffered  her- 
self to  be  persuaded  to  aid  in  his  design ;  but  it 
was  not  without  extreme  reluctance  Angeline  al- 
lowed herself  to  be  so.  Immediately  after  the 
departure  of  lord  Hexham  from  the  chapel,  the 
marriage  of  Miss  Frazer  took  place,  a  marriage 
that  gave  to  the  amiable  family  of  St.  Cuthbert's 
a  daughter  truly  worthy  of  being  allied  to  them. 
The  moment  of  elucidation  was  to  Angeline  a  mo- 
ment that  fully  compensated  for  every  past  sor- 
row, but  that  inflicted  by  the  disastrous  fate  of  the 
lamented  St.  Ruth  ;  still  with  agonizing  regret  she 
dwelt  on  this,  but  with  such  a  conviction  of  the 
blessedness  of  his  translated  spirit,  as  .was  well  cal- 
culated to  gradually  soften  it  into  a  tender  melan- 
choly. 

When  she  reflected  on  her  recent  sufferings,  on 
the  feelings  of  forlornness,  of  desolation  she  had 
experienced,  how  pure  was  her  gratitude,  how  lively 
her  transports,  at  the  contrast  she  drew  between 
the  present  and  the  past — at  finding  herself  the 
acknowledged  daughter  of  the  exalted  beings  she 
so  much  revered — restored  to  the  affections  of  her 
father,  and  again  enfolded  to  the  heart  of  him  for 
whom  even  recent ment  baMJ^^Bp  able  to  sub- 


SOO  MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB. 

due  or  weaken,  in  any  degree,  her  regard — for 
whom  so  unconsciously  she  had  been  interested  ! 

'  'Pon  my  honour/  cried  lord  Mountbrilliant,  whis- 
pering lady  Mara,  on  all  being  at  length  satisfactori- 
ly explained,  *  I  quite  rejoice  at  the  denouement  be- 
ing over,  for  the  idea  of  it  quite  agitated  me ;  posi- 
tively the  marquis  has  an  admirable  idea  of  contri- 
vances ;  when  our  nuptials  are  solemnized,  I  shall, 
in  consequence  of  this  conviction,  take  care  there's 
neither  veil  nor  darkness,  lest,  as  a  punishment  for 
my  follies, he  should  attempt  to  impose  some  other 
than  his  lovely  Mara  on  me/ 

'  Nay/  returned  lady  Mara,  a  little  archly, 
'  those  who  are  best  acquainted  with  your  follies 
are  those  who  are  best  qualified  to  animadvert  on 
them ;  therefore  perhaps  to  give  you  any  other 
than  the  person  he  has  promised,  might  not  per- 
haps be  so  great  a  punishment  as  you  imagine.' 

'  How  cruel !  and  do  you  really  think  i  am  guil- 
ty of  any  that  merit  punishment?  but  when  1  am 
blest  with  you,  'tis  impossible  1  should  retain  them, 
you  whom  1  love  and  admire  beyond  all  created 
beings/ 

*  Nay,  I  doubt,  or  rather  deny  that ;  there  is 
one  in  the  creation  that  I  am  convinced  at 
least  shares,  or  rather  rivals  me  in  your  admira- 
tion/ 

The  viscount  looked  a  little  alarmed — c  I  must 
importune  you  to  name  the  person  you  mean,'  he 
cried. 

1  it  is  unnecessary/  she  returned  ;  '  for  if  you 
take  the  trouble  of  casting  your  eyes  on  the  oppo- 
site mirror,  you  will  there  see  who  1  mean/ 

'  Oh,  abominable  severity  !  I  shall  endure  it  no 
longer,  but  directly  go  and  flirt,  or  at  least  endea- 


MONASTERY  OF  ST.  COLUMB.  SOI 

vour  to  do  so,  with  one  or  other  of  your  new  sisters ; 
upon  my  honour,  they  are  both  very  lovely  crea- 
tures, but  I  still  think  I  give  the  preference  to  lady 
Hexham;  how  beautiful  does  the  soft  glow  of  hap- 
piness make  her  appear !  I  would  say  lord  Hex- 
ham  was  an  enviable  being,  but  that  I  am  one  my- 
self; the  particulars  I  have  heard  bring  to  my 
mind  the  folloAving  lines  of  the  poet : — 

'  The  cloud  of  jealousy's  dispell'd, 
And  the  bright  sun  ofinnocenee  reveal'd  ; 
With  what  strange  raptores  is  he  blest, 
Raptures  too  great  to  be  express'd  ; 
Tho'  hard  the  torments  to  endure, 
Who  would  not  have  the  sickness  for  the  cure  ?' 


THE    END. 


* 


rs 

R 
3 


